01-Monday – Plot

Mondays are the days where I discuss plots for Tabletop RPG Sessions

Legacy of greed

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Welcome everyone to Monday’s post on plots, drivers and adventure hooks. This week we will continue on with the 3rd part of the Red fleet Adventure where we look at the conclusion of the magic draining creature, the Gaki spirit.

This will be a relatively short part of the adventure focusing on the combat, (if the party didn’t manage to kill it already) and the aftermath. So let’s roll into it.

Keeping family traditions

203MoKFT

After sitting in silence for what felt like an hour Kyoko slowly opened the door and looked out at the deck of the ship. The red sails and rich wood were starting to show their colours as sunrise came in full bloom.

Turning to the adventures who had found themselves at the centre of the creature in Daye she sighed and sat down. “The seals that we place upon our doors and windows on our ships are meant to prevent river and sea spirits from entering and playing with our maps and instruments. I didn’t expect to face other creatures, well, spirits from our homeland over here but I am glad for the seals now.” She said as she opened a bottle of a pale, strong smelling wine.

“Hurane, check the merchants and look for those who have no seals on their boats. We will find the family during the day so we can prepare the family for the removal of this possession and send their ancestor back to the heavens to live in peace. We still dont know what type of spirit it is, my coin is on a Gaki but it may be a Baku or another yokai. The wards we have are mainly created with powdered silver, check with Takeo to see if his teachers have sent word.” She spoke after a minute of drinking the rice wine.

She then turned to the party. “If its offended by our wards we have a priest here who can bless your weapons with the same material. It will help you purify the yokai’s, a bad spirit,” she clarified, “essence so it can pass on. Please go seek out Lee Ping. He will know of which you ask for. I fear that tonight it will come again and angrier, especially if we remove the possession from its tether. Be prepared as they are known to be vengeful.”

The idea this week is to get the party to work with Hurane to talk to the families, of which there is one, and to meet Lee, a surprise for tomorrow and Thursday. This will give the party a goal and the means to defend themselves but the encounter wont be easy as with the previous night and the night before I would expect the party to not have had a full long rest yet.

Well that’s it for tonight, the beginning of the end for this multi-part adventure. If you like this approach more than a whole, different new adventure each week please let me know! I am still experimenting with how I want this blog to work and want to hear some thoughts!

Don’t forget to come back tomorrow and every day this week for more content and as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,

The Brazen Wolfe

Dark omens

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Welcome to a new week here at Brazen Wolfe Tabletop and as with most new weeks it starts with Monday. Monday here means that we look at plot hooks and those adventure triggers that get the party moving in one direction to achieve a goal.

Last week we looked at a mysterious mist creature that would enter peoples houses and, from what we revealed, consume magical items as a way of a food source (perhaps, who knows..) So this week let’s continue on from there and look at the next step of the hunt for the creature and a way to clear the name of the Red Fleet and their leader Kyoko Harimasu.

Chasing mist

202MoChMi

As the party leave Kyoko’s room on the boat they are shown back to where they were staying by the boy again but not before the boy slips a small magical charm into the pocket of one of them (a hawk with stretched wings where the feathers touch to form an arch.

As they see the inn they realise the boy has disappeared (Passive Perception DC14 or an active check would have heard the flutter of wings faintly). That night the party members may (DC14 passive perception) notice a dark mist drifting down the walls, DC10 if they have dark vision) when the last of the lights have gone out. If they watch the mist the creature wont reveal itself and it will disappear however if they ignore the mist, don’t see it or fake not noticing it then the creature will reveal itself.

Once revealed creatures within 10ft need to make a DC12 Charisma save or they remain unconscious/asleep or they remain unaware of the creatures presence. They can re-take this test if something (a sound such as the creature finding a magical item it will begin to feed and this makes a sound like a wind being pushed through a small crack in a wall) with advantage the second time around.

The creature hates silver and will flee from mirrors or silver weapons or jewellery immediately but seeks out magical items (such as the hawk talisman). If the PC has a magical item they will (no roll needed) notice something in the room with them looking over their items. If it’s discovered they will find a magic item displaced and strange pox-like marks. This doesn’t damage the item but it looks like it would be irreversibly damaged if the creature was to finish its hunt for the magical items.

The creature will generally only visit one Party member if un-disturbed but if all party members have a magic item it will visit each of them until it’s discovered or its destroyed the magical items.

If the party find the creature it will disappear through the roof whilst emitting a hollow shriek. If it was disturbing devouring a magical item it will revisit that character again to try and slake its thirst but it will increasingly grow more violent the more times it is denied its meal. Eventually attacking the party members who come between it and the magical item.

Now that the creature has it’s sights set on the party they need to decide what to do about it, if they report it to Kyoko or the guards (or both) and how they will get rid of the creature. Changing inns/ taverns or sleeping arrangements won’t stop it from finding them and it will reappear each night just as the last lights go out.

Well that’s where we are going to leave it for tonight with plenty of wriggle room for me to update and expand this weeks content as the days go on. Thanks for joining me tonight and if you like what you are seeing here, and aren’t already, consider following the blog for daily updates. If you have followed me don’t forget to come back tomorrow for the next days instalment where we look at the NPCs that may be interacting with the party and what they can do for our party just as much as what the party can do for them.

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

New sun rising

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Welcome to the first writing day of the new year here at Brazen Wolfe Tabletop and being a Monday let’s start off with something to kick our week off.

The inspiration for this week, probably month, is one of my favourite suppliment books I got when I was a teenager, and an aspiring Dungeon Master. So let’s kick it off.

Crimson flags on a pale shore.

201MoCrFl

As the rising sun touches the sails over the docks a shimmering sea of red greets those who rise with the sun. Long masts on beautiful ships sail into port with strange and terrifying creatures carved into the richly coloured wood.

The people seemed to flow across the decks as they tended to great rippling red sails, silken rope and barrels of good. Yet only the captain of a ship had their face not covered by a white mask. As they dock great planks were lowered to the piers below and crates, barrels and cages were taken off the shift and lowered to the docks as the masked sailors moved surefooted across the wooden planks to take their cargo into warehouses and storage.

As the people move across the streets their presence, odd mannerisms and appearance start to cause a commotion across the port town of Daye and soon enough word travels of the animals, items, goods and strange foods that the new ship has brought in. The people are welcoming of the excitement and the traders are accommodating despite never removing their masks or gloves.

After a few days reports of strange occurances of things being moved in houses and shops as well as shadows drifting over roofs and walls. As more of these sightings occurred the people started look for something or someone to blame and curfews were places upon the masked traders to both protect them and rarely their movements through the night.

Well a small snippet to set the scene. Come back tomorrow to look at a NPC or two and to explore what I have in store for this week

Don’t forget to add an hour or two to your hobby and to come back each day for the follow on post and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,

The Brazen Wolfe

Dice-ember prologue

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Welcome to this special edition of the Monday writeup, this week I have a short snappy peak at what Dice-ember will bring you for the next few weeks.

This will be a bit of a large project and with work not slowing down, life ramping up (December is never quiet here in the Brazen Wolfe den) and an overly ambitious project I want to do over the next month I hope that I can make it. But I didn’t think I would be writing nightly for 3 months straight and yet here we are.

The creaking wood was the only indication of the load the eight wheeled wagon. Its driver looked wearily at the eyes behind half closed doors and window shutters who stared at the heavy wooden vehicle as it moved without beast of burden to pull it down the street. As the broad steel-clad wheels rolled over the bluestone pavement the clack-clack-clack echoed down the empty streets as it did every time he took his wagon on its pilgrimage.

“Easy now Nicki, no need to think this time is any different to the past hundred.” the driver muttered to himself as he approached a narrow bridge that crossed above the road he was on. Whistling once, as quiet as a whistle could be a stunted green body slunk up to sit just behind Nicki. “What is it master? You called?” The green form of a frail, old goblin asked, his words laden with spit from his nearly toothless mouth.

“get your misses and get into the wagon from the hatch. Don’t let anyone see you but I have a odd feeling about his run Humph. Keep and eye on the goods and don’t open up unless it’s me.” Nicki said as he drew the wayward branch, a slender wand that had the word gave off feelings of discontent to any who gazed at is dark wood.

Without a word Humph skittered over the top of the wagon and muttered to another goblin that was perched at the back of the wagon before they both disappeared over the side and under the wagon. Nicki looked to the few people staring at his wagon who perched on the edge of the bridge.

“Nothing to see here boys n’ girls. Move a long lest you get on my bad side” he called out, the children climbed over the ledge and safely back onto the bridge before running giggling and carrying on.

Every time was the same, he would pass the bridge then roll out of the town. Having a magic wagon that moved without need for beasts or people to pull it was novelty enough, but the wagon itself wasn’t what he was worried about. He had a schedule to keep to and if he didn’t get his wagon and it’s contents through the city safely there would be no time for niceties.

“There he is,” the shadowy figure said as they watched the heavy magic wagon move slowly towards the bridge. “Come one lets go now!” said the eager cloaked figure.

“Hold it, you know the plan. Wait for the signal, create a distraction then join up with the others on the other side of the bridge” a second non-cloaked figure said has he held a basket of apples.

“Ahh don’t let him get you!” called a child from on top of the bridge. Knowing that to be the signal the man in the cloak pushed his co-conspirator in the chest, who dropped the basket of apples (more threw them) as they rolled towards the cart. “Oi watch it mate! My Apples!” called the un cloaked man as he ran forward picking up a few apples and putting them in into the basket but always moving forward towards the wagon.

Stopping Nicki watched the man approach the wagon, his hand tightening on the wand in his hand. “Hail stranger, you seem to have a bit of a problem there friend.” Nicki said, quickly glancing the man over and determining that he held no weapons or objects that could do him harm. Jumping down he started to pick up the apples and hand them to the man.

“Thank ye sir, it’s not often you get such a nice fellow this far up north” he totally-not-a-apple-seller said.

“You just caught me on a god day I assure you my friend. Do be careful with your wares next time ” Nicki said as he went to jump back on the Wagon.

“Sir, do take some for the road. I have plenty and I really do appreciate your help” the man said with a grin as he held out three apples to Nicki.

Smiling Nicki took them, throwing the most bruised two into the wagon for Humph and Missy through a window that was too small for anything other than a purse or in this case apples. “Thanks Stranger.” He said as he jumped onto the wagon and pressed onwards through the bridge. Maybe he was wrong, he just had been doing this trip for too long and had grown paranoid.

Meanwhile a halfling held her magical cloak down tightly as she lay flat on the roof of the wagon. She hoped the merchant was right and that the outside of the cloak would make it look like the roof was flat and that her presence was completely masked. Hearing two apples hit the ground inside the wagon she smiled. Her plan was going just as planned.

Well there we have it – a bit of an obvious teaser for tonight’s writeup. Come back tomorrow night to have a look at the next step of this months content and thanks for joining me for the 1st day of Dice-ember!

Also a big thanks to everyone who has subscribed or followed to this little blog of mine, I don’t mean to sound sappy but it means a lot to know that there are people out there who are interested in the random, or sometimes calculated, thoughts that I put to keyboard (and paper…) So thanks to you all, you all can have a point of inspiration.

Don’t forget… You make your own advantage, don’t hesitate to cash in on that pool of goodness when feel like you need a little bit extra on any one day. Oh, yeah, and as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Dredge the depths

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Welcome all, Monday has come and it brings a new weekly adventure and the 3rd (and maybe last) in the Beneath the ways adventure series. So let’s get looking into what we have on the table for this week.

This week I want to get back to what we started doing but still attempting to stick with the more narrative story driven style that I have adopted more recently, a few options that are a bit shorter should give me more time to be able to produce a variety of content that is still more engaging than a few small bits of information from the DMs point of view.

The Emissary

13MoTE

As the party lay in their bed rolls, the inn no longer having space enough for their group of 4 they were able to secure lodging with the soldiers of Arciryas, they were suddenly jostled awake by a scrawny boy who looked like he had avoided having a bath for weeks.

“Sirs, Sirs, we need you at the docks. The Elves they are back and Blake has requested for your presence at once!”

“I don’t know what use I will be considering that I have not had more than a few hours to rest. That last battle consumed the last of my magical reserves and I fear that I have not had sufficient time to recuperate my reserves…” Zander began, not being a fan of being woken up. Before he could open his mouth to continue complaining Ray spoke up.

“Tell Blake we will be there momentarily.” Ray looked to see Dusk and Mike standing and buckling on their armour. Even Zander had pulled his robe over his head and began attaching his hooded cloak and retrieving his staff that bore the motif of a snake as the body formed the pole of the staff whilst the head of staff resembled a snarling viper.

As the party left the tent they had been housed in they followed the scruffy boy and jogged towards the docks more and more soldiers funnelled from other tents or houses and moved towards the docks, all of them wearing battle ready armour, holding their spears or swords and had a shield strapped to their wrist ready for battle.

Walking down the narrow path to the docks, a defensive design decision to restrict the number of invaders that could take the city by sea the boy shouted to get the soldiers and sailors to make way for the party as they hurried down the slippery path toward the docks, much to Mikes dislike.

As they finished their march down the steep path and the footing underneath became more stable the party noticed a ring of guards, Sir Blake and Rafnir standing behind some of the more armoured of the men who had formed a ring against the edge of the docks.

“Ah, adventurers. I am glad you came with as much haste as you could. Sadly none of us speak elven and we have been unable to establish what this lone elf wants but they have made no move to leave nor any sort of aggression and we are at a loss. However my men, after losing friends and family to these sea elves, are losing their patience and I fear that violence is just under the surface. To punctuate his point a chorus of shouts erupted from the ring of guards and a few guards moved forward before being commanded back into line.

“We have two who can speak elven.” Mike said, looking towards Ray, the sudden ability for him to understand and speak elven appeared at the same time as they wrestled that cursed blade from the banshees tomb.

Striding forward and being of average build and height Ray used his presence to part the guards in front of him, the soldiers parting ways for him with a respectful bow of the heads given that word of his nobility had spread this far and he was the talk amongst many of the soldiers, and the women of the city.

“Hail, what brings you to these docks. I fear that if you were expecting a friendly reception you have chosen the wrong city friend.” Ray spoke, the soldiers looking between him and the sea elf.

The elven male, dressed in a warriors plate made from some form of coral or shell, produced a bow that was both full of grace and purpose but laden with martial prowess that was not lost on Ray.

“My name is Mathias, well met. I did expect to be received as I was,” he look around a faint smile of sadness present on his face. “But I did not expect to be spoken to in that dialect of elven – it is very old for such a young race to have so evidently mastered.” Mathias curiously mused out loud a he looked towards Raynor, his eyes flicking to the blade at his side. If any recognition of the history of the ancient weapon glinted in the eyes of the elf it was lost on all surrounding him. “However failure is not an option for me and I am here as an emissary. Prince Sellis is waiting my return with the permission for himself and his personal guard to seek audience with the ruling body or person of this city.”

Raynor turned and translated the message back to Blake, a nervous murmur spread amongst the guard.

Pushing through the ring of guards Blake came to stand next to Ray. “Tell him that he will have his audience.” the old warriors face revealing none of the thoughts buzzing through his mind.

The King

13MoKF

King Felris smiled, it had been many years since he had felt the rush of cold water on his face as his massive steed sped through the water heading towards the divergence, the divide under the surface where the warmer water met the ice cold water of the deep, where he ruled.

“Smell that Slakeesh, there has been blood spilt. Ahh, it has been so long since we have hunted surface dwellers, their warm blood, their little wooden boats that they hope in vain will protect them. Even when our claws, spears and jaws break through their hulls they cling to the wood as if it a a saviour. They need to stick to their land, and after our hunt they wont dare to venture out on the water again.”

The large shark he rode swam faster, its massive head thrashing from left to right as it too began to smell blood in the water, its speed increasing.

King Felris laughed as the other steeds of the deep sprang forward, all of them blood drunk as they punched through the divergence. Great Eels, sharks, rays and a single giant squid rushed around the king, swarming through the sea as the great hunt began in earnest.

“Sire!,” a young elf swam up to him, his steed, a sea wolf – a rare breed for this part of the ocean, lithe and quick in in the water “We have found a boat, they appear to be non military but they are heading toward the surface dwellers city.” he warrior said, his face giddy with untested excitement.

“Good. Send word that we attack at once, leave no survivors. These surface dwellers have tested our good will for long enough and will need to be taught respect. Make sure to send some of our Ilnari to conduct their rituals. We need all the bodies on the land as we can, and I need more souls to save our children” King Felris spoke, a sadness in his face and voice. The surface dwellers had taken everything from his people, poisoning them at first and causing them to turn upon brother, sister, wife and child. When the king had fallen ill he alone had been strong enough to supress the madness and in his exile from his people he had found it. The cure. The souls of those who were responsible for this poison, this curse could cure the burden his kind had been left with.

As the warrior sped off, signalling for a few other warriors to speed off towards their prey the old King felt remorse. How had his son, a prince of the sea elves, been so soft and weak to believe that the curse was not the fault of the surface dwellers. It was their wrecked war ships that had spread it, their wild, uncontrolled magic had ripped into his people, into his father – the king. To save his wife and pathetic son a terrible fate He had send himself off into exile hoping his son would find the cure but as decades past and no word from the palace, his home, came the king took matters into his own hands.

This was the only way forward, the only choice. It had been so long since he had partaken in a great hunt and he was going to let nothing or no one stop his quest to save his people. A laugh came unbidden to the king, him not even aware that the laugh had taken place as somewhere his warriors dragged the souls of a merchant and his family into the shards of the great Clam, the birthplace of a new race of elf, the rightful rulers of under and above the waves.

Well that’s what we have for this week, the prince coming to offer aid to the city in attempt to save his father from committing something he couldn’t come back from or the King breaking forward and perhaps beating his son to the city, his madness spreading through his army of sea creatures and elves.

Depending on which way we go with this week we may have another week left of adventures in this story arc, but we will have to see what the rest of the week brings. Don’t forget that if you like a particular direction that the adventure could take to leave a comment. Ultimately I want to leave the decision of the adventure to the readers of the blog, or fate and roll to see which one I write-up at the end of the week where we have multiple options.

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

Ripped flag in a sea breeze…

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Monday is here and while I still dream of escaping to the beach this year I shall write about reasons to not visit a beach near Arciryas to try and convince my brain its a bad idea… It’s currently not working.

This week we continue off last weeks setting and push further off the pier and out to sea. With ships taken over, warriors amongst the waves and dangers on the roads who can be sure its safe at all.

The defence of Arciryas

12MoDoA

As Rafnir followed the tracks from the still warm campfire he walked along the road away from Arciryas and towards a neighbouring town that acted like a hub for trade along the coast and the inland. Rafnir stopped and crouched near a particular set of tracks. Interesting, the toes drag slightly of this foot, either the man had injured himself last night or he had been drinking heavily last night. The foot prints were erratic and the owner of them appeared to be stumbling and faltering a bit as they walked. As he traced the footsteps the occasional shrub or thick bushy tree became a dense wall of vegetation that framed the ochre colour of the road. Glancing down at his feet he had lost the set of footprints he had been following, the one with the odd gait. Retracing his steps he noticed that all of a sudden the erratic pattern, the stumbling and unevenness of footprints he was tracking appeared again. But what was actually odd was how they seemed to merge perfectly with the normal set of military issue boots, all traces of the impairment gone.

As he crouched and mused over the conundrum a shout from up ahead broke his focus. As he tried to focus on the voices he realised that the brush and thickening trees were blocking off the voice from carrying on the wind. Looking to the road he could see that it turned harshly to the left up ahead which would mean that if he cut through the brush me may be able to better assess the situation from the safety of cover rather than being caught out in the open on the road.

Pushing through the curtain of branches and lose scattering of leaves Rafnir hurriedly pushed his way through until the voices were louder and more clear. Coming to a crawl he snuck up towards the edge of the brush until he could see eleven figures with weapons drawn in the middle of what would appear to be a heated debate.

“I’ve told you once, turn around these are Poisidity roads we currently are not allowing anyone into the city for your safety, especially not undeclared Arciryas military” the man holding a curved blade and buckler declared, his ginger moustache twitching with barely contained anger. The men he was talking to just laughed and seemed to talk to each other in a different language. This caused the ginger moustached man to bark orders to his patrol who started to encircle the laughing men.

As the men moved Rafnir quickly looked from one man to the next, the men who were laughing appeared to be from Arciryas, and he would bet they are the patrol he had been following. The other men who looked the most hostile were dressed for patrol and wearing colours of Poisidity, the trade hub city.

A battle cry issued out and Raf with trained instinct unslung his harpoon from is shoulder and was ready to heft it. The ginger man had evidently had enough and had charged one of the Arciryas men. Rafnir, being a patriot at heart stood tall, breathed in deeply as he wound his body up to heft his harpoon at the attacker.

Drop.

A single raindrop fell from above and landed upon his knuckles giving him reason to pause, his mind recognising the omen. There were no clouds in the sky and a single raindrop with blue skies was a sign of deceit. As he paused he watched with horror as the ginger Poisidity man ran the Arciryas man through his stomach, the other side of the blade appearing on the other side of the man. The Arciryas patrol guard did nothing but stand there – the combatants on both sides stood there without movement.

A look of horror appeared on the Poisidity man as the man he run through drew a blade from his hip and stabbed the ginger moustached man in the neck as a blood curdling laugh ruptured fourth from the should-be-deadmans lips.

A cackle broke out from the other Arciryas guard as they charged the other patrol that has surrounded them, moving swiftly and with lethal poise. Rafnir looked on for a moment as blades seemed to hit and wound the now aggressors but the laugher only increased as they threw themselves at the Poisidity men.

Rafnir bound from the brush muttering a string of arcane syllables that sizzled and left a burnt taste in his mouth as he rushed forward. As he blinked he saw the men for what they were, dark mist hung around the shoulders of the Arciryas men the foul magic revealed to his arcane sight.

Hefting his harpoon it flew true and struck the closest of the possessed in the chest, as the man stumbled he looked down at the shimmering silver head of the weapon as it protruded from his chest – the body of another was no armour to Rafnirs blessed steel.

As he rushed forward he unsheathed his scimitar and severed he head of another man who was yet to realise he was amongst them, a shark amongst seals.

A warning cry came gurgling out from the mouth of the man with the enchanted harpoon sticking through his chest, a shimmery water pouring from his mouth as it flowed onto the ground. The remaining three men turned around, kicking the bodies of the Poisidity guards to the ground as they groaned or gurgled out the last of their life away.

“You boys look a long way from home, I also don’t appreciate you wearing the body of these men either so I will be sending you on to your dark deity now” Rafnir said, glancing at the three men who stalked around him. The two on his flank drew coral hilted blades that shone with a dark light to Rafnirs eyes. The one in front of him pulled the sword from his chest before flourishing it a few times in front of him – whether trying to intimidate Rafnir or demonstrate his skill he didn’t have time to debate before the blade was slung as his head, forcing Rafnir to step backwards, a whistling of air to his left made him duck and twist out of the way as a dark blade narrowly missed his jugular. Leaning back and placing his free hand on the ground he barely managed to avoid a second blade that looked to gut him like a tuna.

Using his momentum he flipped backwards, he lashed his steel shod boot out, kicking the possessed man who was rushing forward with a lethal looking coral dirk sending him to fly knees over head backwards and landing on his back.

Quick as eels the two men who were flanking him lunged at him, both slashing, whirling and stabbing their blades in union. Deflecting with his blade became troublesome as it gave no room for him to attack if he was stuck on defence. The man he kicked recovered and began to stand onto his feet.

Not good, Rafnir thought to himself as he barely managed to parry a blade aimed for his neck as he some how through the luck of Umberlee (or what little she gave her followers) slap the other blade away from his kidneys. Channelling one of the few spells he had memorised every day for the last decade he inhaled a lungful of air before bellowing out a mighty roar, the magic infusing with his bellow it struck light thunder – sending the two men who were attacking him relentlessly stumbling backwards before tumbling over, their eyes and ears bleeding form the force of his magic.

“Umberlee take you to her watery domain you bottom feeders!” He called out as he strode towards the fallen on his right, noticing the dirk wielding man rushing towards him he gave a tusky grin as he channelled a cantrip he was particularly fond of. As he pretended to strike down at the recovering man he quickly turned his swing into a flourishing parry, deflecting the dirk aimed at his spleen before grasping the mans face – unleashing his spell, lightning crackled from his digits as it danced along the possessed mans body. As the lightning seared and ripped open wounds in the mans body he convulsed before he was thrown to the ground unceremoniously.

Searing pain, erupted in his lower back as the other possessed blade weilder had recovered faster than he had anticipated. The deep sea cold blade bit in deep, sending a chill across his body, as he felt the magic of the blade bite he fought back.

“You cant rip out what I lost long ago” he said, spitting out he words he had refused to acknowledge long ago. Somewhere the dark goddess of the sea smiled.

Stabbing his blade through the neck, scraping against the collarbone and shoulder ribcage as he plunged his sword into the barely recovered man in front he turned, feeling the blade schlick out of his back.

“You cant stop us, we are everywhere” the possessed man with a bloodied blade near shouted, zealous energy dancing across his dark eyes. “We will flood across the land and take back what was ours, your souls feed our army, your bodies house our assassins and your ships carry nothing but ruin”

“Ah, so the ships are also compromised are they,” Rafnir murmured, aware of the stalling tacking as he stalked foward towards the man, the electrocuted guard from before stalking slowly, wounded and barely conscious in his shadow. “What if I was to tell you that I could foretell the future, hmm? I see blue skies, nets full of fish and piles of your dead kinsmen on our beaches. What the sea grants you it has granted me tenfold little boy.” Rafnir snapped with the speed and strength of a giant snapping turtle, his hand crushing and grasping the hand of the man behind him even as the dirk pricked at his neck. Drawing on the last of his magical reserves he raised his other hand he pushed the last of his memorised spells into his finger tips – a large icicle sprung to life in an instant before burying itself deep into the face of the man who stabbed him.

“Now that we are alone my friend. Let me introduce you to the dark sea mother – we have much to discuss.” Rafnir said, the man in front of him finally showing fear in his eyes as another shocking grasp wracked his body causing him to black out. Wrenching his sword free from the dead man and retrieving his harpoon he noticed that the dead all expelled a silvery water once dead, peering into the liquid of the man he beheaded he saw a flash of a lifeless face dance upon the surface as if a reflection.

“Curious you a lot are” he murmured as he rubbed a handful of healing salve upon his scarred skin on his back, walking towards the unconscious possessed man as his mind raced towards the questions he would have to ask to get the answers he needed before this body also became to much for the invader to bear.

Well that’s it for tonight. I hope you liked what was written up tonight where I explored something I have had in mind for Rafnir since I conjured him up out of a dark night whilst listening to metal. Evil aligned characters aren’t always that type of evil. Rafnir is definitely Evil and probably Lawful (albeit just) when it comes to order vs chaos.

That is to say he does what he wants and needs to to achieve what he has agreed to do. He is not above murder or bloodshed when it comes to achieving his goal as long as it aligns to the moral compass he has – he wont harm the innocent and he tries to protect those who he cares for or owes a debt of gratitude to. To him the end justifies the means.

Don’t forget to let me know if you like what you have read, also don’t forget to come back tomorrow where we look at other NPCs who we can investigate.

And 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 Tavern…

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Monday is here and what’s more is that it’s the 10th week of me writing this series of “An Adventure a week”. Even just before when finishing up dinner I was thinking of next weeks adventure, well, one of the possibilities.

But for this week I want to test out something that I envisioned when I first started this journey. Modular adventures. So to explore that a little bit, modular being the ability to construct with standardized units or dimensions for flexibility and variety, in this case each adventure, NPC, Twist (this one may be difficult, but will make it work), Map and encounter will be made up from one or two of the ones previously created in past weeks.

So without further waffle, I had some help from my wife this week – she rolled the dice and left the selection of the adventure up to chance. Rolling a 6 on a d10 (6th week) and 5 from a d6 (second non-used adventure hook).

Mer’s Magical Tavern

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 any one 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”

This week we will be trusting luck, fate, chance, the dice, what ever you want to call it as we randomly generate the contents of this weeks adventures from upcycling what was passed over in previous weeks. Each day I will get someone to roll a dice, well a few dice, to determine which week and which set of content that I should incorporate into this weeks adventure.

If you wish to get involved, either let me know which week, or specific part you want me to include in this weeks adventure and I will do so. Tomorrow is NPCs – so I will be looking for between 1 and 5 NPCs (as they are the beating hearts of what draws our players into these crazy situations) so if I get any comments on this post indicating which NPC to include I will put them in first before rolling for additional. Sounds fun right?

Also this week I will be planning on continuing with the expanded write ups, a more story driven narrative with a shortened version on the weekend. I don’t quite have enough time on the weekends to write a short story.

So that’s it for tonight, a visit from the wandering tavern in a place it wasn’t meant to be for some unknown reason. Lets see where the rest of the week takes us.

Don’t forget to comment if you want to be involved this week either roll the dice (a D10 (if you roll a 10 I will have to make up an NPC..) and then a d6 as I normally have between 2 and 3 things to select from) and let me know what is rolled. Or post the Slug (eg. 09TuSP for Sally Pondt) to identify what you want and I will add it (if I can).

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

The Marsh of Masks…

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Monday has come again and as I hinted in the weekends writeup we are exploring the Marsh of Masks this week. This week I am experimenting slightly with the format this week finding that the variations of colours (tying in with the colours I use for the post-its I have on my board here) were maybe a bit to much. So this week I am looking at toning it down a bit and potentially updaing the previous posts to a more neutral colour format.

Without further waffle let’s have a look at this weeks adventure hooks!

Never trust something that hides behind a mask…

Credit to image goes to original owner – located here under public domain

The town of Newtbranch is situated about a days travel into the largest marshlands on the continent. The path to the city is frequently submerged by a black, brackish water that leaves a stench amongst travelers clothes and the creatures that call the marsh home are even less appealing to the average trader. But the town of Newtbranch is situated next to what used to be the most bountiful gold mine in the known land.

Due to that the marsh is known for three things, it’s mine that still pulls up gold (although not as bountiful as it used to be), the ruins of an ancient civilisation that used to live amongst the bogs and the trees and its cemetery, one of the largest cemeteries due to the number of deaths that happen in the mind, around the marsh and within the town.

Despite the high fatality rate, prospectors, miners, archaeologists and adventurers find themselves drawn to Newtbranch, a city build above the bogs among the branches of the ancient branches that call the marsh home but the wispers amongst the falling leaves and twisted branches speak of a new concern for the town. Masked creatures stalk the bog beneath the suspended tree village, some townsfolk even have whispered of masked figures amongst the houses in the town.

Orcs in the mists

09MoOIM

The strange noises, shadows that pass the windows and amongst the bog are caused by a tribe of orcs that wear masks constructed of the skulls of beasts of the swamps. The reason for them being amongst the city, but not outright ransacking them seem to be unknown and they appear to attempting to be carefully hide their tracks.

The death masks

09MoDM

A necromancer in the marsh has begun raising the dead from the graves near the town and has ordered them to search the bogs. The zombies and other undead creatures have managed to avoid being outright spotted but the necromancer who controls them grows impatient with their brainless servants lack of results.

Thanks to joining me on your Monday and I hope to see you in the following days. Don’t forget to come back tomorrow where we look at some of the colourful characters that our players may encounter in this weeks adventure, some may help, many may hinder the players in their quest to unravel what stalks the streets and the bogs.

Thanks for joining me for 9 weeks of me writing up these adventures, if you haven’t already consider subscribing so you don’t miss out on anything and if you like what read don’t forget to let us know!

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

To Hunt the Cockatrice…

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This week is effectively my week off so I will be posting the bones of an adventure that I hope people will be able to incorporate and in use for an adventure as soon as this weekend.

Monday is here and that brings us a new plot and hook for our players to get excited for the adventure!

Caravan image created and all credit to Irate_Astartes

You’d be surprised what they sell these days…

The merchant caravan, whether travelling from place to place or set up as a semi-permanent shop, is a staple of many adventures. Normally they are things to escort, things to meet at, things to purchase goods from or ab place to come back later when the owner is away and steal that shiny dagger…

What ever you use them for this week we are starting at a caravan.

The gift of immortality

08MoCa

The party, as they enter the town, returning from their latest adventure, are approached by a well dressed man who carries himself as one would with years of experience and training, seeming to blend in with the crowd as water moves amongst rocks.

The man ushers the party into a carriage that looks to be extremely well made with plush fabric covered seats and exotic furs to add that little bit more lushness to the experience. The carriage is large enough to seat 8, impeccably clean and feels overall quite expensive. A little basin with little dish of water is placed before the party by the carriage footman. The mysterious man, who calls himself Y, quite confusing really, produces a small palm sized crystal that glows with a purple light and places it in the basin.

A ladies voice, muffled by magic or something mundane, speaks from the crystal and from the tone and language used they party can tell that she owns the carriage and probably much much more.

The owner of the voice offers the party a job, go to a gypsy camp in the Hollow desert and retrieve an artefact called the Shruiabe Coin and bring it back to Y. The party as compensation would receive 1,000 gp each for their discretion and the artefact and a bonus will be provided to them if the artefact is the genuine thing and does what it is rumoured to do so. The party is to wait at the Mulberry and Cake inn within the city for their full compensation upon their return. If the party accept then Y would produce a map that indicates the known reported locations of the gypsy camp and a sum of 350gp to get provisions for the journey as the Hollow desert is not a forgiving place.

The Gypsy Camp

After a few days, and trying a few previously known locations the party arrives at the gypsy camp. The past few days have been rough as the denizens of the desert are numerous and hostile. Making their n way through the camp they ask about the artefact and are pointed towards a colourful tent with wars and goods for sale. A tanned Moon elf resides as owner of the caravan-come-stall and had the artefact with her, supposedly, but she has a request for the party, an exchange for the artefact. She needs four Cockatrice eggs and knows where to get them, supposedly, but she is curious why the party is after such a cursed artefact…

Thanks for joining me for a new week, I plan on going into a little more detail with this weeks content as there is less variation in the options available.

I hope you like the plot for this week as I and excited to write it out this week.

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