To Take Wolf Ridge

315MoTTaWoRi

The party watched the man, a veteran from some forgotten conflict, pace in front of a map. The plans were simple yet the man took a lot of pride in them and strutted like a bird trying to impress a mate. The mission was simple: support the soldiers and escort the transport from some barbarians from Wolf Ridge to town. The veteran began to explain to the other adventurers and sell swords the reason for the raid on the village. The party had heard it before.

The governor of the town of Berkshire was growing tired of the farms being raided for livestock by the barbaric tribe of Wolf Ridge. So he organised the guards of Berkshire, along with some mercenaries to raid the village to capture the tribal people a week before the full moon. The Governor had heard from a passing wise man that the tribe indulged in a week of peace before the full moon. With the soldiers gathered and bolstered by eager to sell swords, adventurers and mercenaries the Governor and his friend, the captain of the guard, planned to attack in the middle of the week.

The party had been approached separately, by the governor, and had been asked to keep the other non-guards in line. Word had reached him of the party’s previous successes and he was keen to have them employed differently than the others. Besides, he was worried about his friend, the captain, as he had left the army after being involved in a large battle but that battle had never really left him.

The Raid

The party approached the village, ready for anything but as predicted they were greeted by alarmed but passive people. A variety of races, ages and people made up this tribe and they dressed in wolf furs to fight off the chill of the alpine village. As the guards rounded up the tribe’s people they left the elderly and kids and escorted the others out of the village. The sell swords stood near the party and watched as the warriors marched, defeated, away from their homes.

“You can’t do this… Not during our sacred week.” a voice spoke from behind them. Turning they saw a middle aged halfling woman who dressed in a mixture of merchant and tribal gear. “We spend this week praying and seeking mercy from our gods. To break this cycle is to insight doom upon our people and yours as our gods are unrelenting and merciless.”

After a brief but concerning talk with the woman the guards called for the party to leave. Those that remained at Wolf Ridge cried but stood there, peacefully, as they watched their tribesmen and women be marched off. The party noticed the little halfling woman looking pleadingly at them but slowly lowered herself to her knees and began to pray. Cupping her hands in such a way that a large circle was made she held it to the sky and began a howling chant.

The chant carried them down the hill and sent a shiver down their spines.

Thoughts

Now this one, in my opinion, is a bit of a classic trope that I simply love to throw at parties. The idea behind this week is to seek signs, to question little ‘Easter eggs‘ and for me to tie multiple things together to have an “ah-hah!” moment. I believe that this adventure should be thrown at almost all parties as it can teach them a few things about themselves, the game and their characters.

To Roll with Fate

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What… that is the question on the players lips as they watched what was happening in front of their very eyes. As the pile of coins; silvers copper and golds, piled up in front of the youngster in front of them.

“You want another round? I can’t believe my luck at this. My older brothers showed me how to play once or twice but I never thought that it was this fun!” the youngster, a boy of maybe twelve years old, said with glee.

“No more. I’ve got nothing less to give up. You’re a natural at this my boy!” a large man said with a might grin and laugh. “Unless these other players wish to roll dice against you and loose all their coin I daresay you’ve out played us all!” he said with a chorus of laughter from the men near to him.

The boy grinned broadly, a very innocent smile. “Nah, just beginners luck sir.” he said with a smile as he grab fistfuls of coin and shoved them into a bag. “Here, thanks for teaching me sirs!” he said as he passed out a few silver pieces to all the people at the table, enough for a meal. “I better get home before mother worries!” he said with a skip as he hoisted himself down from the chair and bounced out the door.

“Follow him,” the large man said after the door closed behind the boy, “I want my coin.”

Dishonourable

The boy ran down the alley ways, the men who had followed him from the tavern were catching up and he was now frantically running. “Give us the gold boy. No questions just the gold and you can be free!” one of the goons shouted at him, a dragonborn with large rough scales. The boy ran faster.

As he turned a corner in the unfamiliar part of town he ran into a blocked alleyway. A large mountain of barrels had been stacked here to be unpacked and sorted in the morning. As he looked for way around the sounds of the men got closer and he took a risk. climbing over the barrels was risky but, he was lucky after all.

“There you are boy. Now we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Give us the coin and you can go back home to mother. Don’t and you go back to mother but limping. No one cheats the boss and the boss don’t lose at dice. So that means you cheated!” the other, a half-drow snarled at the boy. The boy didn’t respond and so with a snarl the half-drow jumped forward and grabbed the boy by the ankle. The boy shrieked and kicked out once, suddenly, his foot connecting with the eye of the half-drow.

“Ouch! You little dog. Well let’s say that you don’t even make it back to mother now!” the man roared as he wrenched hard on the boys foot. The boy grabbed onto the barrel with all his might but, he started to slip.

To roll with fate

As his grip faltered and the barrels started to tip his lucky dice fell from his jacket and bounced down the barrels. The boy let go of the barrels, determined to not let the dice finish falling. But as he fell, the man looked shocked as the boy fell on him and the dice clacked down the barrels.

Picking himself up he dove for the dice but it bounced off his finger tip as the man under him pulled him closer “Gotcha!” he snarled with a manic grin. But the dice stopped rolling just as the boy grasped it. With a sound like a bell being struck the dice resonated with power and with a sizzling snap the boy, the boy, the half-drow and half the barrels disappeared in a flash of deafening light and a thunderous Roar. When the dragonborn could see again all that remained was floating barrels and a single silver piece.

Thoughts

Oh boy, magic dice, a lucky lad and a missing henchmen. This adventure has all the things that a good “What” could want. The answer to what is simple. A magical artefact that is possessed by a lucky boy who has disappeared with a large sum of coins that a gang leader believes is his. Tomorrow we will look at the who, the part of the story that will drive the involvement for the party and the adventure.

The Kings Hidden Queen

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The king stood in front of his subjects as they gathered in the square beneath him, his worn but strong hands gripping the railing to the balcony he stood at. “My beloved subjects of Rueven,” he stopped as the cheering erupted from his subjects. Gesturing for them to stop he continued, “as you know every year I throw a feast for the kingdom to celebrate the birthday of my queen, our queen. This year is no exception! Come, be merry for under the full moon we will feast, be merry and celebrate queen Celeste!” His voice bellowed forth across the people down beneath him. Another chorus of cheering and rejoicing erupted from the crowd.

“My queen has a request, this party will be a masked festival. There will be games, contests of strength, agility, wit and talent. Everyone will be masked and no one will be treated any different – everyone is equal for this day. You will be invited to dine at the same table as I and the queen and we shall enjoy the feast as one people, one kingdom.” he stopped as the murmuring began in the crowd. An awkward moment passed before somewhere, someone in the crowd began to clap. Soon the single sound of applause grew to a thunderous racket and his people were celebrating the idea of the festivities this year.

The Queens Request

As he stepped back from the applause he walked, alone, past his guards and attendants “Park, a moment.” he requested as his guard captain walked nearby.

“Yes sire, what can I do for you?” he asked, looking around for the queen out of habit, the one no one had seen.

“I believe that we may have some trouble with this event. The queen’s life has been targeted and we intend to catch them in the act. I need you to seek out adventurers. A group that can blend in with the crowd and act as castle staff to apprehend the would-be assassins. We can only trust you in this.” he said as he gripped the shorter man on the shoulder.

“Yes but sire,” he hesitated, apprehensive if his words would bring out his king’s rare but famous anger. “Will the queen be present this time? She hasn’t been present, ” he picked his words carefully “for some time now.”

The king smiled, “she is always present. Don’t play games now Park, you know how my queen likes them. You may end up playing her games and not having time for yourself if you keep it up. Now we have a party to prepare and you have adventurers to find.”

“Yes my king.” Park said, his face hiding his sadness at the state of his king’s sanity.

The king walked through the other housekeepers and guards, sighing as he rolled his huge, broad and muscular shoulders. “Are you sure of this, my queen?” he asked under his breath. “If you believe someone is after you, are you sure you want to make it easier for them to sneak amongst us?”

“Yes, I am. I do love these games.” his queen’s voice came in response, like a gust of wind in his ear.

Thoughts

Games. This week is about games that we play and none out-play the queen of Rueven. Just because someone is never seen or never heard doesn’t mean that they aren’t present. This week is about uncovering who the assassins are, if there are some, and working out what they are really after. After all, if the whole kingdom believe the king to be mad and queen-less then why would someone want to risk killing something that isn’t real.

Cult of the Lizard…?

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The town of Shirkwall was a town of progress. Known for its schools, colleges and people of science and learning it was the pinnacle of technology and discoveries. Situated upon the granite cliffs high above the churning bay below it was also one of the oldest cities in the land. In fact one of the reasons it was so famous was the ancient ruins that it built around and on top of – of which none were more impressive than a large, smooth, four sided obelisk.

When the party arrived there was a large gathering of people at the steps of one of the temples, this one to Lathander. Now a gathering on temple steps, especially to the morning lord wasn’t something that uncommon as to invoke curiosity but this was different. A large gathering of men and women from many races were gathered on the steps in green robes and were preaching at the gathering mass.

“Repent now for the time of false idols is over. The gods have left us, they have shunned us for we are the city of progress and discovery. Repent now for the time of the lizard is here. The great scaled one, the behemoth in the dark beckons for your sin to be swallowed whole. Long have you mocked the reptiles of this land, many even deem them nothing more than a poor-man’s food source. But fear my words children of iron. Children of steel and science. The days of blasphemy are at an end and the reign of the lizard will commence!” A tall, thin woman shouted at the growing crowd below her.

Bad for business

“Ah, get her off the steps! This Cult of the lizard..? It’s a joke.” someone heckled from the crowd. “Move on, your drying up business faster than a dwarf dries up tankards at Larry’s Tavern!” another called out, to the laughter of many in the crowd.

“Mark my words heathens. The time is right. The great lizard will consume you all for your sin!” another, this one an elf, called from the steps.

On the street corner near where the party was standing a few guards stood at the ready in case the preaching took a darker turn. “These nuts at it again. I swear we had one a few years back that spouted this nonsense now they have quite the following” one guard said, a captain by her attire.

“They don’t cause any trouble, they just say their piece, say a prayer and then leave. They don’t break our laws” the one on her right. “I guess we’re just here to make sure no one gets hurt again captain?” he asked.

“That’s right. And they aren’t the type to hurt people in any way… Their movement is a pacifist one. In fact it’s probably the most peaceful religion out there apart from the whole end of the world and death by giant lizard.” the captain spoke with a mild chuckle. “Looks like it’s about over.” she added.

Thoughts

An interesting start to the adventure this week. Obviously this is just the start and it should get the cogs turning. In fact I already know what each night of this week will entail, map and all. Hopefully my daughter will be pleased with what I make of her little paragraph story.

Arbiter Zeds Final Call

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The afternoon had been productive and despite the unseasonable rain shower they had managed to bring in the crops before they were ruined. Drying off as best as he could he cleared the table and moved to make a start on dinner. A hearty soup with some dried boar and vegetables from the farm. What was missing was some grains from one of the neighbours.

The town of Heartsfern was relatively secluded at the edge of a forest. A tribe of elves guarded the forest and were fiercely protective of its plants and animals. This made gathering wood for the farm or new buildings difficult but also meant that they were guarded from bandits or worse from the forest. A neutral relationship that seemed to suit them both had formed and the elves even came to barter on occasion.

Making the decision Trent stood, stretched and scooped up a few silver pieces to take to get the last ingredients for the soup. Leaving the warmth of his single roomed house he walked down the short road that connected all the buildings in Heartsfern. The buildings were predominantly wooden with the inn and general store having stone walls, but everywhere there were smoking chimneys. As the evening chill began to set in he hurried to reach the general store and walked in.

The herald approaches

“Ah Trent. I was about to shut shop. I’ve been meaning to thank you for the boar meat you gave me the other week. It was a lovely addition to the family’s meal.” Shelly said as she beamed at him.

“Think nothing of it Shell. You’ve looked after me many times before so I wanted to repay your kindness.” he said with a warm smile. “I hope I am not intruding too late, I am making a soup and realised that I was wanting barley in it. Do you have any from Baz?” he asked as he approached the counter.

“I have a small bag left for a few copper,” she replied thinking. “If it’s just for one meal though I can give you enough for the meal for one Copper piece?” she offered.

“That would be perfect.” Trent agreed as she fished out a copper from amongst his coin. But as the exchange was made a haunting voice rattled through the street.

“Come one, come all to the tale of Arbiter Zed.” The voice began to thrum as Trent and Shelly left the store and looked at a figure walking down the road. It stumbled but hummed as if trying to remember the tune. After a moment though the humming turned into the man singing a tune.

“Although his boots are worn, and his arms are gone some may call him Dead. Yet he sends me here, to sing and cheer while you make your… bread!” the figure said after a moment’s pause. “So listen well and listen true as he arrives when the moon turns blue. He brings his band, he brings his crew to make his performance true.” The man was now stumbling into the middle of a ring of townsfolk, some having grabbed farming implements or some old weapons.

The Promise

The singing man bowed down low, his ragged clothes stretched over a heaving chest as it stopped walking. The humming began once again before turning into another cackling sing-song. “For if you like his play, you can stay to live your peaceful life. But if like his wife, you hate this band…” the man heaved deeper before standing up taller. His rotten skeleton form revealed itself as the sun set behind it and the moonlight revealed his features. “Then you can join his carnival of the damned!” The man roared with laughter, shocking those around him when the body started to break, shatter and fall to the ground in great sloughs. Even when the herald of Arbiter Zed lay a broken heep of bone, worn fabric and dried flesh the townsfolk still swore they heard the laughter.

A heartbeat or two passed before the town was in an uproar of chaos. A bag of barley lay in the ground, tonight’s dinner now ruined by the grim portents of next week’s blue moon.

Thoughts

I absolutely love, love! the idea of a black parade. The idea of a carnival of the damned travelling across the mortal plane spreading chaos and fear just gets the creative spark roaring to life. This week is about preparation, a carefully executed plan and testing the parties understanding of both magic, them selves and the paranormal. Arbiter Zeds Final call hints at the outcome of his performances. If people truly like his gruesome act them they live, else he takes them to fill out the ranks of his band as it is his final call after all.