Festival of Ale

426SaFeAl

Inhaling deeply the man looked around the audience beyond the stand, with a stamp of the foot and a flourish of his fingers across the lute he belted out the next chorus of the song. It was moments like these that made his craft feel more worth while. The sun shone down upon those who were partaking in the festivities as they danced, laughed, sang, drank and ate as the Festival of Malt went into full swing.

Some of the best brewers of beer and ale could be found on the streets of Warfehergen this time of year and for a bad like himself, it was the best paying gig of the year. Several people threw coppers and silvers into his hat as they passed by him playing on stage. As he finished his last song he took a bow before picking up his hat filled with coins. Pocketing them in a pouch within his coat he strolled through the other merrymakers out enjoying the sun.

Several ate and drank exclusively on these days but there were other stores making the most out of slightly inebriated customers. Several stores had fine clothing, jewellery and fancy trinkets where people with more coin than sense would potentially purchase things while enjoying the rest that the festival had to offer for them. However, this also meant that there was an increased number of guards.

Any large gathering of people, especially when alcohol is involved, is prone to having pick pockets, thieves and thugs roaming the streets. After the first year they were more common than actual patrons but the cities guards quickly learnt that their presence wasn’t just requested, it was needed. As the bard walked past a bar and paid for a meal consisting of smoked meat, a strange steamed grain-based bread like substance and some pickled vegetables. It was delicious, spicy and sweet which danced upon his taste buds and as he gobbled up the morsel the vendor handed him a mug of ale.

Drinking the cold liquid deeply he savoured the malty notes, the bitter under currents that swirled within the mug and as he continued the depth of flavour and complexity of the ale satisfied his cravings. Passing the vendor an additional silver piece he finished his food and drink before continuing further into the festivities. As he passed the colourful tents of other vendors and watched the next bard prepare for a song he wondered what else he could get away with on a day like today.

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Beyond 900

425SaBe90

Most adventures begin in an Inn, enclosed within four walls with a source of food, water and riches. Many adventures I daresay end in the same way; being walled in with riches within reach and at least enough food and drink to last a few days. Most of my fondest memories of TTRPGs is being the game or dungeon master and they all involve watching those key moments of success or realisation where the party has just accomplished some great goal or caught onto the grander plot of what is going on.

These moments, the penny-drop, lightbulb and Eureka moments are what makes the game for me and really its thanks to the party’s that I play with. So the next few hundred nights may see a shift to what the party may want to see more of as I do use a lot of my content (but thinly change the who’s, what’s and where’s). The party has expressed interest in trying out another gaming system so we can stop and see what that looks like and how that will play out with what I produce here.

But until that time I will continue to provide the content in the current form with, attempted to be, weekly zines that contain nearly everything needed to run the game. That is except the secret, key ingredient; the dungeon masters themselves. Each one of us who are called to this role and noble calling put our own spin on things, we tell the tale differently and that is what makes it truly great.

So I will look at how I can shift it up a bit, make it more fluid, maybe a bit simpler and who knows, maybe even try to get a better product out there!

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The Outcome of Magical Backlash

423SaOuMaBa

The air around Contoro shimmered as if the saviours of the city, and the land for that matter, still battled the dracolich with spell and steel. The scarring of the sky was just one side affect that the residents still had to deal with but at least this one wasn’t as bad as the others.

Occasionally the echo of the spells that were cast here would appear again, great phantasmal images, sounds and even smells of fire balls, bolts of lightning and torrential acid rain would appear randomly over the city. Only once in recent memory had one of these spells taken a more physical manifest where the image of a bolt of lightning not only looked, sounded and smelt like one but it tore a hole in a wagon that passed down a street.

Other echoes of the battle appeared frequently within the city but many of them were harmless, unless the pavement suddenly turned to lava, a wall disintegrated into sand or the like. The spells and raw arcane and divine power that was slung in this city was so intense that the position in the material plane was still linked in with the weave that lay on top of it. The worst part of the city was where the body of the Dracolich had crashed into the city itself. The body had been disposed of but as the create died, its phylactery broken, shattered and disposed of separately across planes, still had such a strong taint that it was nearly unliveable.

However the poor of the city had taken to creating a series of houses and shanty’s that moved closer to the area the dragon fell. The outcome of magical backlash was felt most keenly here with a sickness spreading through those that lived close to the tainted land. Born sickly with the inability to respond to magical healing, or spells these people live a half-life; constantly sickly, weak and frail as the magical poisoning pulls their bodies apart. But despite the best efforts of the city and its rules more people end up living closer to the dragons taint and so these issues, the outcome of magical backlash, continue to rise and a new magical menace haunts the streets.

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The Battle for Lithia

422SaBaFLi

The water swelled in the ravine as it was powered by dark magic and the callings of the druids alike. Urged to flow in different directions at the same time it became a living force by itself fighting against itself and the confines of the ravine itself. As the bodies began to roll down from the hills, peppered with arrows the raging river turned from clear to murky and blood stained.

The roars of the raging waters was overtaken by the warcries and cries of pain and desperation from the defenders and the host of attackers. Swarms of ettercaps, driders and other aberrations rushed across the sides of the mountains and rushed at the attackers. The defenders slung arrows and bolts at the onrushing fiends which pulled a few from the walls and into the rocks below. However the aberrations were without number and as they rushed onwards towards the settlement. As they reached the walls they made a mockery of the battlements and climbed it like they meant nothing.

Once the creatures breached the top of the walls they swarmed across the defenders and the volume of arrows dwindled as man, dwarf and elf picked up sword and axe. Soon the defenders numbers joined the attackers in the dead on the walls. However there was hope as red cloaks darted between the creatures of darkness, their blades flashing like lightning across the dark carapace of the creatures they were fighting.

As the attackers surged over the heroic people defending the tides lost ground. The further they were pushed back to the waters and the boats that were waiting to ferry who ever made it out of the ravine.

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The Red Crescent

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The Red Crescent is a relatively secret organisation who seeks out aberrations and evil within the land. These elite warriors are among the most well equipped and trained of the free companies within the land and can, to some degree, can work around the law.

This organisation was created by a survivor of the Red Day – a catastrophic event where a solar eclipse was manipulated by a powerful wizard to bath the continent in mutating energies. Aberrations ran rampart and destroyed many villagers and due to the magic involved the eclipse lasted not just moments but for hours. The battle that followed the event, and the hunt for the mage, cost many lives and it proved one thing. That there was a need for warriors who were above the law and outside of the sway of royalty so they could act independently to save lives.

The organisation grew as people were hand selected to become a Red Crescent warrior and soon their ranks swelled. Now the organisation is the second largest in the continent and they devote their days to sending warriors on peace keeping quests to protect the world, and its people from aberrations who would see civilisation fall.

These warriors are born not just from necessity but from the anticipation of calamities to come ahead. Diverging from the original directive to protect from aberrations these warriors are trained to fight and win against just about any hostile or threat to civilisation that comes their way. However, as their directive is to protect and serve the good people of this world they don’t seek out evil or threats. They however get around this by employing adventurers or heroes to seek out the threats and in doing so safeguard the future of the realms in which they are sworn to protect.

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The Path Most Travelled

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The path most travelled is a simple affair really. Having a driving force move the party through a generally hostile landscape to reach their destination. Travel is something that many people either gloss over or over-do with bandits, roaming wolves or the like but there are a multitude of other options that we can explore.

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The first is a travelling merchant.

Picture this the party have been travelling for days now on the road and the weather has turned. As the skies darken, their animals slow and the world begins to get louder as rain pelts down against the travellers. But there is the scent of cooking meat on the air that rises above the smell of mud and damp vegetation. As the fat raindrops splash down from the trees above a flickering light ahead of them reveals that there are other travellers taking this popular road.

Approaching the light the warning growl of two large dogs put the party on on alert however the call that answered alleviated some of the worry. “Down girls, there is no need for that. These people don’t look like bandits and they are definitely not orcs or the other marauding humanoids. Come strangers, share my fire if you wish” called the voice of a thin man who poked the fire. The dogs growl softened into a concerned throaty noise but they listened to their owner.

The fire held what remained of what appeared to be a deer while a pot hung next to the fire and the contents, a stew, bubbled. The man smiled as nearby a horse whinnies as it rested under a large canvas that was strung up next to a wagon that was laden with boxes, barrels and cloth wrapped packages. “The names Steve, this here is Filly an this is Kane. Named her that before I realised she was a girl, but the name stuck anyway.” he said as he gave the large mastiff on his right a big scratch behind the ears.

“I am a merchant of types, general goods, supplies and a few other rarer items but most of those are back home in the shop. You are welcome to share the first and some stew if you want. I can share some stories too” he flashed a toothy grin as he fished out a ladle and some small bowls.

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The other one is something that isn’t what it seems to be. Now this has been done many times before – once or twice on this blog and several other times in the TTRPG media scene. But the easiest is a child appearing next to the road and picking flowers, or my favourite curiosity – mushrooms.

As the party travelled along the well worn path the trees began to open up and more sun began to shine between the branches. Along the side of the road animals hurriedly avoided the party as they scampered into burrows or up trees just in case the party decided to make meals out of them. But there was plenty of other things to eat near the road with a bounty of mushrooms, fruits and other edible plants lining the road.

However while admiring the view next to the road a young boy was spotted moving from plant to bush and from bush to mushroom patch as he carefully prodded and examined each edible long the road. When he became aware of the party he smiled and waved before continuing to look at the mushrooms before plucking one out of a dozen similar ones surrounding it to be placed in a bag.

“Dad always said you need to be particularly careful when picking mushrooms!” he called out as he moved to grab a few handfuls of berries from a bush. “The berries are generally fine, its all about the leaf shape really when you think about it. Rounder leaves generally are less likely to be poisonous and you can always give them a sniff if you are confused.” he said as he grabbed the last few berries from a bush.

When asked what he was doing here, how he got here or who he was he replied with “Oh just doing nothing” or “Nothing special to get here” or “Just nobody” as he tried to artfully dodge the questions. After a while he approached the party and held out the bag. “you lot will need this food more than I will. There is something strange going on in the forest lately with something scaring the bigger game away. You best be careful what you hunt as well as they say its protected by the elves!” he said whispering and looking to the trees.

Before the party could ask any more questions he skipped away into the forest, pausing to wave once before walking behind a tree and disappearing from view entirely. Even as the party kept an eye out for him to reappear, or if they followed him shortly after any trace of the boy could not be found. The food he had collected appeared to be all edible and harvested with a master foragers touch. There was also a small whistle made of yew in the bag which made no sound when blown – but no matter how far they travelled they still felt like there were eyes on their backs constantly.

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The Astral Ripper

420SaAsri

As soon as his hand hit the amulet he felt that something was wrong. The amulet felt cold and even as he tried to drop it his hand contorted and wrapped around it. The remains from the thugs that were here a moment ago were scattered around the warehouse floor. A trap set upon the crate dealt with those thugs but it was obviously there to ensure no one picked up the amulet.

Even as he looked for a solution he could feel his body tearing apart, being sucked into the void that the amulet was creating. As he was sucked in he witnessed a body, a husk of someone else, be dumped at his feet and turn to dust as it crumpled. ‘An exchange’, he thought as he felt with a great deal of pain with his muscles ripping and being sucked through what felt like the eye of a needle.

Then the pain disappeared after what felt like days but then he opened his eyes to endless skies. It took him a moment to realise where he was and a moment longer to believe what he was seeing. The Astral plane spread out before him, but not quite as he was sitting between the two planes, trapped. But he had been here before many years ago as an adventurer so he had some idea of what to expect, and what to do to get out of here. Now he just needed to find some help.

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Evocative Imagery

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Sugo stood at the edge of the paving’s and looked over the city of Trevalis. The arch wizards had erected the castle on top of the mountains to remind the peaceful people of their power and, more importantly, that they were for ever watching. Sugo had been born with with some magical power but it was not impressive enough for the Arcane College in Tervalis to be accepted into their program. So devastated and upset he instead said goodbye to his companions who had made it into the prestigious college for the arcane arts and left to find his own path.

Decades later he stood above the city and gazed upon the castle. It had grown since he had last seen it and no doubt it was at the cost of the lives it had taken in. His colleagues had been broken and their magical powers harnessed by the arch magus’s elite council – a practice forbidden for centuries but hidden until one of his colleagues had sent a warning to him. He gazed at his elderly mentor and friend, Simon, a legendary mage that had been exiled from the academy for standing against the council.

Too powerful to be controlled or defeated yet not powerful enough that they would fear him. So they cursed him that he would never achieve the rank of master. Nor would he be able to step foot in Trevalis nor gaze upon its people or city until a master welcomed him to do so. But here they both stood, the Master and his master as they gazed upon the corrupt city.

Raising his walking stick off the ground it expanded and gained in weight until it was a warped and twisted staff. The wood thrummed with power as Sugo began the spell – one to not only put fear into the hearts of the corrupt Magus council but to also cease their forbidden rituals.

The magic was linked to the fabric of the world itself, by removing that spell, that magic itself from existence he could undo what had been done and save countless lives. However the spell was unpredictable and despite practicing it in small doses the removal of the power behind the thrown of Trevalis would take something more. So he borrowed magical power from the grass, the breeze, the cascading waterfalls and the ground itself to create the grounding forces for his spell. As the weave added its magic to his call the elemental magic took the appearance of great spheres floating in the sky, immediately alarms could be heard coming from the city but it was too late for them.

Lightning dashed across the sky as arcane energy arced towards the spheres. Each bolt was channelled through the spell and was searching for the traces of the target of the spell – the forbidden magic. Soon a few bolts of energy could be seen coming from points in the city and the academy, however the keep was a different story. The entire keep thrummed as it fought to wrestle control and keep the energy it was built with. Simon began chanting adding his own powerful magic to counter the spells being cast to locate them and undo Sugo magic but he knew only Sugo could stop the spell.

Soon arcs of lightning erupted from the castle as the stolen energy was ripped from those who had perverted the natural world. The energy solidified into spheres of oscillating power which attempted to stabilise themselves before being given back to their rightful home. The spell that adjusted the fabric of the world was not one that just anyone could control and the side effects were ever lasting. As Sugo strained to maintain control he, once satisfied, began to command the last action of the spell.

The removal of the forbidden practice from the fabric of this reality and the return of the energy to where it came from. Many of his comrades and friends had died in the practice and the outcome of this practice was unknown. But it was a risk he needed to take, for the memory of his friends and the justice that only he could mete out.

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