RPG NPC Portrait

Sebastian Softcote

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Sebastian Softcote is no famous chef, nor is he a good cook but he knows stories and is eager to take opportunities when they arise. Even if that risks his soul apparently. As the party scramble to catch up to the old but tenacious cook they learn a bit more about the land they travel through and its residents.

So grab a coffee to go, tie up your laces and lets get a start into tonight’s adventure!

Sebastian Softcote

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The Yuzalef Cauldron – created in nightcafe.

As the party huddles around the dwindling campfire a few hours after the others retired for the night the silence around them starts to feel unnatural. The strong draft horse that had been pulling the caravan had ceased snorting about an hour ago and despite some distant noises towards the mountains it was quiet.

Slowly a low groan can be heard from the wagon, where the horse was tied before a muffled call for help came forth. Rushing to inspect they found Glenn, the caravaner who had offered to take them to their destination, was slowly pulling himself off the ground, a lump on his head.

‘Where is he…’ he said as he stumbled to his feet. ‘Sebastian, he raved about borrowing the horse to search for that damn cauldron.’ it took a moment for Glenn to realise what had happened. ‘He took off with our horse! We have to go after him, those woods is dangerous. Besides, who knows what trouble he might have gotten himself into chasing after campfire stories?’

The party hastily packs their belongings while they get ready to leave the caravan and Glenn behind. The forest looms like a shield for the mountain ahead, its shadows deepening as the night grows darker the further from the campfire they move. The air is filled with the scent of damp earth and the occasional distant call of a creature as they move deeper into the territory of the creatures that call this mountain home.

As they cross into the deeper parts of the forest, the path becomes increasingly treacherous as tree roots, rocks and burrows litter the path and rough tracks they are able to occasionally see via moon and torch light. The trees close in around them, their twisted branches like skeletal fingers reaching out in the night. The underbrush is thick, making every step a challenge. But the faint, flickering purple light in the distance serves as their guide.

More than once the party hear a rustling sound nearby, something moving through the underbrush but nothing reveals itself as the party continue on. They freeze with each rustle or sudden burst of noise from a creature moving at speed around them, listening intently for any signs of danger but it doesn’t come, not swiftly or directly in any case. The first sign of something being wrong is a patch of blood, fresh enough to be the last hour or two, aligning with the tracks heading towards the mountain and the beckoning flickering light.

It could be that of an animal, a coincidence, or it could be something far more sinister and Sebastian and the horse, their only way to travel the roads with speed and safety could be in danger. The tension grows as they press on, each member of the party hyper-aware of their surroundings and searching for more signs of what happened, yet none come apart from the occasional droplets of blood heading towards the purple light.

As they get closer to the source of the light, the ground becomes uneven, dotted with strange, faintly glowing mushrooms that cast an eerie glow at the base of old trees. The purple light grows stronger the closer they are, illuminating a narrow path that seems to lead up the mountainside.

Thanks for visiting tonight to get a feel of where this adventure is going. As its the start of the year again I tend to do a few low level encounters for new DMs but don’t fret, I will ramp up quicker this year to higher level adventures. Tomorrow night we will explore further, an encounter perhaps and catch up to Sebastian. So Don’t forget to follow along this adventure daily and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Return of the Red Lord

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The return to Felmore finds the party in high spirits as they herald the return of the Red Lord. Having successfully defeated the Forgotten One, for now, and rescued Elara who was a stalwart companion before and during the siege. The city, once shrouded in darkness and despair, is now bathed in the light of hope and victory. The Red Lord, Elara, and the party are welcomed back as heroes, and the city prepares for a grand celebration in their honour.

So tonight, grab yourself your favourite seasonal beverage, get cosy and let’s roll into tonight’s adventure!

Return of the Red Lord

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Red Lords Feast – Created in Copilot, modified in Nightcafe.

The party step through the gateway that shimmered like daylight and ended up landing on the solid ground on the other side of the portal. The ground was still cold and hard but as the pikes and spears that were pointing towards them dropped to the ground a grand cheer broke out. ‘The adventurers have done it! The return of the Red Lord has come true!’ shouts one man as he runs off calling at the top of his voice to any and all who would hear.

Having successfully defeated the Forgotten One for now the inner gates of Felmore open wide as the party approaches, the city alive with joyous celebration. The streets are lined with cheering townsfolk, their faces bright with thanks and admiration. Ribbons and flowers are thrown at the party as they pass but not in malice but in joyous praise. The air is filled with the sound of music and laughter with the Red Lords songs of praise and mercy being sung both sober and even louder drunkenly. The Red Lord walks beside the party beaming at the change the city has had after defeating Grehy. It was without a doubt that his presence as a beacon of hope and renewal was celebrated most loudly but the party and Elara were praised almost as highly.

As the party makes their way through the jubilant crowd, they can feel the weight of their journey lift from their shoulders as they catch the eyes of several of the Sages Council, those who had agreed to condemn them at Brother Colins request no doubt. The people of Felmore reach out to touch the parties clothing and hands, offering their heartfelt thanks and small tokens of gratitude in the form of sweet biscuits and small carvings. The Red Lord’s radiant smile reflects the joy and relief of the people he has sworn to protect but a lot of it radiates down to the party who bask in its warmth.

‘Brave heroes, today we celebrate not only our victory but the resilience and unity of our people. Your courage and determination have restored hope to our land, and for that, we are forever grateful.” the Red Lord says loudly as they stopped walking before his temple. A loud cheer follows and they are hurried towards large square nearby where they had planned the defence of Felmore just recently. The tables they had planned on stood slowly being covered in food and mugs of ale, the feast of Red Lords day was well under way, if but a few days early, and the party were ushered to a few seats at the head of the table next to where a seat was reserved for the Red Lord himself.

The Red lord went to take a seat but as he sat down the chair exploded into splinters, laughing merrily on his rear he lifted himself up and reduced his size back to a normal humans. A new chair was fetched and he sat down, requesting one more seat for Elara to sit by his side.

The scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and sweet pastries fills the air. The sounds of laughter and music create a festive atmosphere that is almost as intoxicating as the tankards of strong meads and beers there were being drained nearly as quickly as they arrived. The party found themselves always talking to someone despite being sat near the head table, surrounded by friends and allies. The Red Lord stands from his chair slowly, raising a goblet in a toast.

‘To the heroes of Felmore, whose bravery and sacrifice have brought us to this day. Let us honour them and celebrate the light they have restored to our world. To their health and to the future!’ he calls out as he gestures to two men who hurry off. A few moments later they return ‘Brave heroes. Today is not just a day of celebration of your deeds which have not gone unnoticed but of the deeds of those who stood by your side against despair and isolation. As a token of my gratitude and a symbol of our bond, I bestow upon you a gift, one that shall serve you in the trials to come. May you rise to defend the innocent, even those who aught seek your forgiveness, time and time again.’ he offers

The chest is opened, revealing its contents. Items of great power and significance lay within its gilded frame. The chest contains magical artifacts, each imbued with a small essence of the Red Lord’s power. These items are designed to aid the party in their future quests, enhancing their abilities and providing protection against the forces of evil.

After the gifts are chosen by the party the Red lord nods and his two assistants carry the chest away from the table. He looks sullenly around those who are seated and standing. ‘The time has come for me to return to my duties to continue the work of protecting our world and ensuring that the light of hope never dims. But know this. I am with you always, in spirit and in heart. The bond we share is unbreakable, and together, we shall face whatever challenges lie ahead.’

With that final, heartfelt farewell, the Red Lord departs, his presence lingering in the hearts and minds of all who have gathered. The party is left with a sense of accomplishment and a renewed determination to continue their journey to go along side their full stomachs.

The city of Felmore is forever changed by the events that have transpired. The light of hope shines brightly, and the people look to the future with optimism and resolve to do their lords work, to show mercy and kindess to any and all. The party, now honoured heroes, prepare to embark on the next chapter of their adventure, knowing that they carry the Red Lord’s blessing and the gratitude of a grateful city.


Thanks for joining me as I finish part three, the final component, of this years dice-ember adventure. That means that we should have another zine, or large booklet, that contains the extra bits for this adventure as well as the related narrative. So keep an eye out for that and don’t forget to come back daily to ensure you get a copy of that file when I release it. And lastly, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Isolation at Meldwel’s Edge

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The party has successfully rescued the Red Lord from the crypt and begun their journey back through the Meldwel Forest. However, the reprieve is short-lived as they are greeted with crushing isolation at Meldwel’s edge as the Forgotten One has dispatched troops from its army to reclaim its prisoner.

So group together, stand firm and let’s stand fast against tonight’s adventure!

Isolation at Meldwel’s Edge

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Isoloation Wraiths – Created with Copilot

As the party makes their way back through the dense, ancient forest, they nearly forget that they are being hunted. The jovial trickster spirits, the fey that see the Red Lord as their patron deity skip merrily around his feet engaging in acts of pure mirth and joviality. The Red Lord smiles at the creatures and occasionally bursts into laughter which is short lived. The party notice the giant man trying several times to activate his latent magical powers but each time only a fraction leaks out. Small flurries of snow, a handful of berries and fruits growing magically on a nearby tree and a small cup of water turning into steaming mead.

Through the forest he continues and his sullen mood improves only once they see the edge of the forest where the road to Felmore can be seen. The joyful laughter of the trickster spirits fades and they slow their frolicking as the group nears the forests edge. Soon the sound of jovial laughter, pranks and mirth stop all together as the party comes to a stop at the forests edge.

A chill runs down the spines of the party as a gust of cold air comes from behind them carrying a distant raspy voice that they don’t quite catch. Worried about being ambushed in the forest Elara makes a break for the forests edge where sunlight can be seen dancing on the grass in the plains beyond. The party give chase not wanting to be separated and to leave the feeling of being hunted behind in the forest they cant help but instinctively grip their weapons tighter.

As the party bursts out of the forest the sun hits their skin and warms their bodies and mind. The feeling of dread and of danger vanishes nearly instantly as the suns rays dances over their skin and a warm breeze catches at their hair and clothes. Except, when they turn around their party members are not with them, just three shades with long goat-like horns sprouting from their skeleton like head. The shades drift closer to them, floating above the ground and as they spread forward the light and colour of the sun soaked plain starts to bleed to grey.

The air becomes thick and suffocating as a deep sense of dread washes over them as they see movement in the grass around them and their fear of more unseen assailants takes over. The shades start to slash at the air in a display of their combat prowess even dodging phantom attacks that came their way but their faces never left the isolated party member.

Then, a burst of heat and red light erupts from near by and Elara’s voice can be heard breaking through the gloom. ‘Fight back the isolation, you are not alone so fight for yourself and for your allies!’ she calls. A warm hand touches the back each party member as a giant figure strides through the grass. A wavering outline of the Red Lord moving towards the shades who were dispatching the last of the jovial spirits from the forest who had leapt to the defence of the party and their lord.

Slowly the outline, as if an after image or illusion created by a mage appeared of each other the parties allies. Each one of them coated in a faint red warmth as they stared down the three shades before them. The battle begins in a surreal haze. The creatures of the Forgotten One use their powers to try and isolate each of the party members once more, trying to strip away you recently recovered sense one another. The party can only truly perceive the enemy, their forms like shadows in the darkness, their voices a constant whisper of hopelessness.

The battle is chaotic and disorienting. The creatures move like phantoms, their attacks swift and relentless and cruel. The plains and twisting shadows of the forest around them seems to warp and twist as the creatures flex their powers to their full extent. However the party start to push back and deliver staggering blows to the creatures and after the first of the creatures fall the parties senses start to return and once more they can fully see their allies. Seizing the moment they rally together and bring the final wraiths crashing to the ground to dissipate in in the suns rays.


Thanks for coming back tonight to check how we are going with this weeks adventure. A few more days remain as we move towards wrapping this up next week! So don’t forget to come back daily for this seasonal adventure and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Rescue of the Red Lord

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Tonight we witness the rescue of the Red Lord, although that is not quite accurate. The party do in fact rescue the red lord and find a treasure trove of magical items that pulse with latent energy, yet they all remain untouched. Without much to go on they must find a way to free the Red Lord from his magical bindings and restore his strength as there is no man alive that could carry such a giant figure.

So tonight let’s grab ourselves our favourite seasonal beverage and let’s roll into tonight’s adventure!

Rescue of the Red Lord

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As the guardian that had been corrupted or coerced by the Forgotten One lay behind them, defeated in the game that they spun to catch the exhausted party, the party stood before the entrance to the final chamber. After having successfully navigated the trials and defeated the guardian constructs they could not but feel a wave of apprehension as there had been corruption in this little challenge they had been set by the guardians of the crypt. But they had no doubt that before them lay something of the Red Lord, perhaps a clue to where he next lay.

The candle flickered weakly but still brighter than when they they had found it in the Blank Citadel but its dwindling life had brought a sullen mood to Elara and the party as it appears that they were no closer to fixing their reputation or freeing the Red Lord. As the heavy stone door swings open, the air grows colder, and a foreboding cold floods forward from the room beyond them. The chamber before them was vast, easily the size of a audience chamber for the rich or royal and its walls lined with crumbling gold inlay. Items, armour and weapons lay on the dozens of shelves, tables and stands around the room and more than one shone with from the magic that they held within them

The floor is strewn with treasures and the remains of what would have been a magnificent treasure horde, but the parties breath catches in their throat as the clank of a series of chains in the middle of the room draws their eyes eyes to the centre of the room. There, suspended on black oily chains and kneeling prone on the floor is a giant-sized man dressed in a tattered red cloak.

It is the Red Lord.

His breath is weak and without the occasional rattle of the chain in response to his infrequent breathing one would be forgiven for thinking it a statue of a giant. Easily as tall as a frost giant kneeling at fifteen feet tall, twenty one feet when standing the deity barely registered their presence as it struggled to remain suspended by the chains attached to the roof.

As the party decide what to do they gain more understanding of what lays around them the candle flickers brightly for a moment, illuminating the tears on Elara’s face. ‘My lord…’ she whispers as she slowly, and shakily, steps forward towards her deity. As the party join the cleric in her approach, the Red Lord’s eyes flicker open, and his unsteady gaze meets them. Lifting his head higher with visible effort he looks at the party with a mixture of hope and desperation. His voice, though weak, carries a tone of someone who has been alone for an eon.

‘You… have come. I feared all hope was lost. The Forgotten’s power was more than I thought it would be. It appears that hope has lost and that the world believes in cruel justice more than mercy and forgiveness. The magic it binds me here and without my strength, I am unable to break free myself.’ his voice carries the warmth of an open hearth and a meal with friends. As he speaks the flame on the Sacred candle burns brighter revealing the sparkle of several weapons in the room.

It took a few moments and some quick thinking to find ways for them to break through the magical chains that sapped his strength but the chains gave eventually and the Red Lord caught himself as his full weight landed on his knees. As soon as the manacles crumbled into dust around his wrists the Red Candle flared brighter and the party knew what to do.

As the Red Candle is brought closer to the Red Lord, its flame burns brighter casting a warm, comforting light throughout the chamber. The moment Elara placed the candle in the Red Lords massive hand a surge of energy courses through his body. The Red Lord’s eyes snapped open, and the room fills with a radiant glow as the Red Candle’s magic intertwines with the Red Lord’s essence. His strength returns, and he slowly rises to his feet, towering over the party his eyes focusing with a renewed sense of purpose. A god amongst men, a singular force of hope against the force that made the world think he had died.

‘You have done well, my friends. The Forgotten’s grasp on me is broken, but I fear that we have not the time to celebrate and so we must not linger. There is still much to be done as we have a world to convince that I have returned. Though I fear something was taken from me as I was stripped from my powers by the Forgotten’s plot.’ a moment of sadness and longing crossed his eyes. ‘But, isolation and loneliness is not something I can abide and so we must fight regardless of the forces against us.’

With the Red Lord now restored, the party turn to leave the chamber, the red lord calling forth some of his remaining magic to reduce in size to one quarter his size. The path they took to reach this place was cleared as they went through it once but they are sure that they were lucky when they passed through once, it wasn’t easy to get this far but there would be traps, dangers and opponents waiting for them on the way back. The Forgotten One would not let the Red Lord escape unharmed and so surely the deity would have laid more traps for them.

After a tense journey through the crypt, the party finally emerge into the light of dawn break. The Red Lord stands tall, his presence a beacon of hope. The forest around the party seems to come alive as the trickster spirits celebrating the parties victory with joyous laughter and playful antics as they prance around the feet of the Red Lord who returns to his normal size and stretches as he breathes in deep.

However the party still has a way to go yet. The Red Lord isn’t back to his full strength and they still have some ways to go before they can not only clear their name but restore order to things. The Forgotten One would not let its plan be so readily dashed and they would surely try to silence the Red Lord while he was vulnerable. But first, a stop by Felmore to the church of the found deity and the revelation of Brother Colin and his betrayal was long overdue.


Thanks for joining me for a big night as we have finished part 2 of the 3 part adventure. That means we have another week of adventures as we continue on from the rescue of the Red Lord, the return of his candle and the path forward to restoring order to this world. So don’t forget to come back daily to remain up to date and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Elara and the Forgotten

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As the party draw closer to the Blank Citadel they meet a cleric and a mad man. Elara and the forgotten gods servant are tonight’s focus with the party trying to save the young priestess as she can still sense the Red Lords light.

So sit down, grab your candles and let’s prepare to fend off the darkness in tonight’s adventure!

Elara and the Forgotten

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Elara describing the Forgotten – Created with Copilot.

After the battle with the patrol the party continues their journey north, deeper into the Darkstone Mountains. A harsh and unforgiving terrain greets them where the Blank Citadel lies hidden among the jagged rocks and towering peaks and if the cryptic messages are to be believed its location wont be revealed easily. The path grows more treacherous and untravelled with each step, but despite the dangers they have their names to clear and, gods willing, a deity to find and save.

The deeper parts of the Darkstone Mountains are a maze of narrow passes, steep cliffs, and winding trails. The air is crisp and thin with a constant chill that bites at their skin, note and throats. The sky above is often overcast, casting long shadows that make it difficult to see dangers in the path until its too late as pockets of deep shadows conceal cracks, debris and even potential foes.

The party had been moving cautiously through the winding mountain paths, their eyes scanning the rocky terrain and bushes that grew out of the mountain face for any signs of dangers. The memory of the patrol’s ambush was still fresh in their minds and every twist, every sound along the path seemed to echo with potential threats. As they navigated a particularly narrow ledge, one of the party members noticed a figure trailing them from a distance.

At first, they thought it was another enemy, but as the figure drew closer, they recognized her as one of the clerics from the ambush; a follower of the Red Lord. She was one of the few that they hadn’t subdued as she had hesitated during the attack and her devout nature to the Red Lords teachings of mercy and second chances had been noticeable, and now she seemed to be following them with a purpose.

The party decided to confront the cleric in a small, sheltered clearing where they could speak without fear of immediate attack or of falling over the edge of the path and into the deeper parts of the mountains. The cleric, a woman named Elara, approached them cautiously, her eyes filled with uncertainty mixed with a firey determination.

‘I… I don’t mean you any harm. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that you were responsible for the disappearance of the Red Lord as your reputation didn’t match the image that you were being painted with.’ she said finally after a series of questions.

‘There’s something deeply wrong about all of this. I could still faintly sense the Red Lord while in Felmore but now with each step deeper into the mountains the feeling and connection grows. If he was dead and his Red candle truly snuffed out forever then no one would be able to sense the lord. Many have given into their despair and their fear and strayed from the path that our lord has shown us. That is why they cannot hear him.’ she added before pausing, looking doubtful of her next actions.

‘I was ordered to join the search as I was a hunter before finding my calling and I have a strong affinity with divination magic. But despite my order being received I never believed in the intent and planned to resolve this matter peacefully with mercy.’ she said as she made the sign of the Red Lord. ‘I needed to see for myself, the people you truly were and I now doubting that anything that Brother Colin had said, all the words he had used to paint a perfect picture of the monsters you were… they are all false aren’t they?’ she asked with a look of loss and hopelessness.

As the party debated her intentions, the air grew tense. Elara’s sincerity seemed genuine, but if it was true then someone who followed the missing lord would surely be able to assist them in the near future.

Without warning, a shadowy figure emerged from the bend behind them. A dark, tattered once-red cloak looked frayed and as if the colour was seeping out of it. It was Brother Colin, his eyes burning with malevolent intent. He had followed Elara, suspecting her betrayal but reliant on her ability to sense the party, and now he sought to silence her and deal with the party once and for all.

‘You could have just stayed in the cells and let justice determine your fait. But I wasn’t surprised to see you escaped despite the words of comfort and hope that my agents had whispered your way. Never mind I have you and this traitorous fool now. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice your hesitation to believe your superiors words. Do you still hear the weak fools voice calling you to spread mercy? I can’t have you ruining the Forgotten One’s plans, this ends now!’ he called.

With a flick of his wrist, Brother Colin summoned dark energy, launching a vicious attack at Elara which she barely survived as a shimmering veils of red fire moved to protect her form the worst of it. The party, recognizing the threat to themselves and their only connection to the lost lord, sprang into action to defend her.

As Brother Colin falls, a shard of mirror spills out of his cloak reflecting another world, a familiar one, the hidden temple. Elara provides them with more information about the Blank Citadel, a place of myth where the deities used to lock away all that was best left forgotten and buried. She highlighted the danger that lay within its sealed doors and asked them if they had a plan, how they would breach what was meant to be impenetrable.

She also remembered, barely, a story that she was once told when she joined the clergy of the Red Lord that he had once tried to extend the candle of mercy, his Red Candle, to the Forgotten deity who had been shunned from the world. They were a mess of madness and chaos and survived of the energy of fear, loneliness and hopelessness that came from extreme isolation. They didn’t have a clergy of a sort but creatures that weren’t too long by themselves, in isolation, always would reach out to the Forgotten One. They were sustained by such negative emotions that when the Red Lord showed Mercy, kindness and understanding it hurt them more than any immortal weapon could.

As the Red Lord grew to power and those who felt isolation and banishment so profoundly were given second chances, invited to feasts and shown compassion the Forgotten One’s power started to wane and they all but ceased existing, or so the story went.


Thanks for joining me for another twist in this December’s seasonal adventure. It would have been seen coming from a long way away but Brother Colin revealing himself as a traitor, a servant of the Forgotten One, has been in the cards for a while. But there is yet more to come and even more deadlier foes to face. So don’t forget to comeback each day this week to stay up to date and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Road to the Blank Citadel

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Tonight we follow the party on the road to the Blank Citadel. The roads out of Felmore are heavily patrolled as the word that the party has been seen in the city has spread. However the party manage to avoid the patrols on the road, however, their luck wont last for ever and they are ambushed with the Darkstone mountains within striding damage.

So sit down, grab a hot coffee or seasonal beverage as we hike into tonight’s adventure!

Road to the Blank Citadel

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Patrols chase in the mountains – Created in Copilot.

The party leaves the Hidden temple through a vertical shimmering transparent mirror-like portal. As they enter the central chamber of the Red Lord where they entered the hidden temple from. As they step through the statue of the Red lord the surface stops being mirror-like and the portal closes as the symbol they used to trigger the portal clangs to the floor. The clerics are still elsewhere and even the guard to this room remains as they were when the party entered the room.

After leaving the temple the party sets out on their journey to the Blank Citadel, armed with the cryptic clues from the hidden temple guardians. Their path leads them northward, through the dangerous roads and treacherous landscapes. However, the journey is fraught with danger as they realise very quickly that several patrols are actively searching for them, determined to capture the alleged murderers of the Red Lord.

The road from Felmore is bustling with activity, as merchants, travellers, and the busy patrols crisscross the landscape. The air is thick with tension, and every passer-by seems to eye each other with suspicion and the party must navigate the road and their travels to avoid detection while making progress towards the Blank Citadel.

The party moves cautiously through the road out of Felmore, their hoods drawn low and their eyes scanning for any signs that they have been discovered or for patrols heading towards them. The city was alive with noise and activity, but the road out of the city was a stark contrast. As opposed from the jubilation in anticipation for the large feasts in Felmore the activity and noise that was on the roads out came from disgruntled merchants and travellers that as patrols pulled them over.

As they moved along the roads they managed to avoid the majority of the patrols as other travellers were questioned before them. It was going nearly to well as they continued their way out of the city. But their luck ran out when they encountered their first patrol, a group of well-trained guards, knights, and clerics, each one alert and vigilant.

The patrols were stopping all travellers, demanding identification and searching for any signs of the fugitives. The party managed to quickly duck behind a large wagon and they managed to barely avoid detection, or so they thought.

Despite their best efforts, the party’s luck eventually runs out. As they leave the roads and head towards the towering Darkstone mountains the narrow passageway doubles back on itself heading up a ledge. As they turn to climb they notice that they have been followed by the patrol that they believed they had narrowly avoided prior.

As the battle draws to a close, the knight, wounded but not fatally, gasps a message in defeat. ‘You may have won here… but you wont escape your fate, murderers..’

With this ominous warning, the knight breathes his last. The party, battered but victorious, takes a moment to regroup and tend to their wounds. The journey ahead is filled with uncertainty, but they now have a clearer sense of the dangers that lie ahead.


Thanks for joining me for another night as we kick off the second part of this adventure! But we are not done yet so don’t forget to come back daily so you don’t miss a thing and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

The Red Candle

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As the party embarks on this dangerous quest to clear their names and uncover the truth behind the Red Candle and the missing deity, they must rely on their wits, bravery, and newfound alliances. The path ahead is fraught with peril, but the fate of the Red Lord and their own lives depends on their success.

So sit down, prepare best escape soundtrack as we slink out of tonight’s adventure!

The Red Candle

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The party sit there in shock as nearly the entire sage council pass their judgement. Despite the parties best attempt several different and at times opposed factions of clerics and mages gave evidence that pointed towards the party. Divination magic both arcane and divine, witness reports and even a statement from an old employer; who had tries to refuse to pay the party the agreed sum, all pointed to the party as the cause of the missing candle and the disappearance of the Red Lord.

They had been bound by the same black metallic shackles that kept their powers in check and escorted to the jail to await a final judgment as many, including Brother Colin, had argued that the Red Lords teachings said they should be given a second chance. As they were led into the cells with a hot meal their escort smiled at them warmly. ‘I know it looks glum now, but I am sure that I’ll let you out tomorrow as free people. You may not remember me but you saved me and my family not long ago and I know you to be the kind of people to save the innocent, not to harm them.’ with guard smiled again and with a curt nod departed to leave them alone with their thoughts and each others soft words.

The memory of the grand hall that was filled with anxious and angry onlookers and the echoes of the finality of the verdict of guilty still resounded in their heads as inescapable slumber took them one by one. Their instincts honed by years of living and travelling through the wilderness kick in as they wake up one after another. The cells are cold, dark, and damp and a lone candle at the end of a far hall is the only reminder that they are locked deep within the bowels of the royal dungeon. The heavy iron bars remain closed and bound deep within the thick stone walls which make escape seem impossible even without the thick metallic bands around their wrists that had so far remained impossible to pick or get out of.

The mood is sombre amongst the party and as they look around for the trigger of their danger sense awakening them the distant sound of dripping water and the occasional echo of another prisoners moan or wail only created a sense of isolation and despair, yet something was not right.

A hurried scuff of a boot broke the oppressive lack of life as a muffled light appeared hurriedly next to their slide as a hooded figure approached the cells. It was Sage Aramis, an elder of the Council and stemmed cleric of Tyr known for his wisdom and fair judgment. He carries a small driftglobe wrapped in thick clothes that painted a soft glow revealing the concern etched on his face and only a few feet around him.

‘Wake up, all of you. We don’t have much time.’ Sage Aramis whispered as he slipped an overly oiled iron key from his pocket and unlocked the cell with a strained click. Answering the parties confused looks on their faces he rushed into the cell and with a soft glow from his hands the metal bands fell off their wrists and into his waiting hands.

‘I came because I believe you are innocent and despite the overwhelming evidence stacked against you my oath to Tyr would not let me sentence you to death. The council passed verdict late that you were to be executed for fear that you would inspire others to rise against all that is holy.’ Sage Aramis looked disgusted, ‘fools the lot of them.’

As he unlocked the last of the shackles he looked to them all and crouched before them. His age was evident now and there was a sadness in his eyes. ‘There were too many inconsistencies in Brother Colin’s testimony, and the evidence seemed too convenient, all of it. It was nearly too perfect a collection to singly point at people with your history. Something is amiss, and I fear a deeper plot at play and you listed as the scape goat for someone more more heinous.’

‘We must move quickly. Follow me, and keep quiet. If we are caught, my position and your lives will be forfeit and there will be no more aid coming.’ he urged them to follow him closely as he slunk through the corridors, passing many prisoners who were all fast asleep, definitely magic or poison was used in their slumber.

As the party followed Sage Aramis through a series of secret passages known only to a select few within the royal family. As they navigated through hidden corridors and trapdoors they met up with a younger cleric, one that looked more dubious and untrusting of the party.

‘This is Samaeus, he is one of my clerics who helped confirm that untruths were being spoken at the trial.’ Sage Aramis nodded towards the man. ‘He has collected your belongings and has sworn a vow of silence on the matter of your liberation.’ After another tense hour the party, Sage Aramis and Samaeus emerged in a secluded area outside the dungeon.

‘I don’t envy your position my friends and once they realise you have escaped I doubt that there will be anyone within a days travel that won’t know your name and appearance. You must be careful of who you trust and where you go but,’ he paused looking around the small gathering of trees that they found themselves in, ‘you must prove your innocence and uncover the truth behind the Red Lord’s disappearance. Investigate Brother Colin’s testimony as even I believed what he said to be true which troubles me.’

‘To clear your name you must find out who is truly responsible. I’ll do what I can from within the Council to buy you time, but you must act quickly. Good luck and may Tyr guide you to the Red Lord.’


Thanks for joining me for another night here at my tabletop. Don’t forget that this is still the beginning of this twenty four day adventure so we have many more miles to travel before we reach out destination. So don’t forget to come back daily so you don’t miss a thing and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Brother Colin

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Tonight we follow the party as the story progresses to a hastily organised trial where the key opening speaker, Brother Colin, gives his testimony against the players. While the players know it false the rest of the audience appear to believe the Red Lord’s follower almost blindly. Will the party navigate through this trial unscathed or will they be destined to the block.

So sit down, prepare your speeches and let’s jump into tonight’s adventure!

Brother Colin

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Brother Colin – created Nightcafe.

The party have spent the last few days in a cell and waiting for their trial to come to fruition. Despite the heinous crimes that they have been accused of several Red cloaked clerics visit them with fresh food from the banquets outside as well as kind words. Yet their words do not reach their eyes as there is a dark accusation behind them, these worshippers of the Red Lords teachings are here to provide mercy and offer a second chance to the very people who stand accused of murdering their deity.

At dawn the party is brought before the Council of Sages, a stern and imposing group of wise and powerful individuals who oversee justice in the realm led by a high priest of Tyr. The grand hall is filled with onlookers, all eager to witness the trial of the alleged murderers of the Red Lord. The atmosphere is tense and charged with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Despite the sombre nature of the gathering today the grand hall is richly decorated with tapestries and symbols of various deities, but most prominently, the crimson banners of the Red Lord hang in solemn silence. At the front, the Council of Sages sits behind a large, ornately carved wooden table, their expressions grave and contemplative. The accused stood in the centre, flanked by guards. The audience murmurs quietly, their whispers filling the hall with a hum of anticipation.

Brother Colin is called to the stand and with a glance at the party he moves to take his place. Not just a respected cleric of the Red Lord he was one of the people that came to give them food and comfort while they were held in the cells below; a true believer of mercy and the teachings of the Red Lord. He is a tall, gaunt man with a haggard look, clearly distressed by the recent events and exhausted. Clad in his crimson robes, he clutches a small book tightly as he approaches the stand. The head sage, an elderly woman with piercing blue eyes, motions for silence as Brother Colin begins his testimony.

‘Brothers and sisters,’ Brother Colin starts, his voice shaking slightly, ‘I stand before you with a heavy heart. the Red Lord, our beacon of mercy, hope and redemption, has been taken from us, and the Sacred Red Candle, our most sacred artefact which is a symbol of his eternal light, has vanished from our temple in Felmoore.’

He pauses, glancing at the party with a mixture of sorrow and accusation in his eyes, looking towards the head sage as if confirming if he was to continue which she indicated with a nod.

‘On the night of the disappearance, I was on my usual rounds within the temple. All was quiet, as it should be. But then, a strange and unsettling presence filled the sanctuary. I hurried to the altar, only to find the sacred Red Candle missing. The temple doors were ajar, and footprints led towards the city gates. The divine magic we used to trace the culprits pointed directly to these individuals,’ he says, gesturing towards the party.

The crowd gasps, and the murmurs grow louder.

‘I have served the Red Lord all my life, lived his messages and his teachings with every moment and I know his presence well. That night, it was as if a great silence had descended upon me, upon all of us. The candle, given by the Red Lord himself to his murder when he was mortal as his last act of forgiveness and second chances,’ he paused as he suppressed a sob, ‘is irreplaceable. Its loss has weakened our connection to him, and our prayers have gone unanswered since. Even the highest in our order can not reach him and our prayers to divine his safety, whereabouts and to connect with him have all indicated he is dead.’

Brother Colin’s voice grows stronger with conviction. ‘I beseech the Council and the good people present, to understand the gravity of this crime. These individuals must answer for their actions, and justice must be served to honour The Red Lord’s memory. These murders are beyond redemption and beyond second chances. They deserve not a second chance or one of redemption but the kindest mercy we can give them, a swift execution.’

As Brother Colin steps down, the weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. The party are called to come to the stand and to present their case. The challenge is now to disprove Brother Colin’s testimony and begin unravelling the truth behind the framing and the disappearance of the Red Lord. The trial is just beginning, and their fate hinges on their ability to navigate this perilous path of justice and deception.


Thanks for joining me for another night here at my tabletop. Don’t forget that this is technically day three of Dice-ember so we have a long way to go before this adventure concludes! So don’t forget to come back daily so you don’t miss a thing and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Prince Tarley of Karne

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Tonight we meet Prince Tarley of Karne in a better circumstance than the meeting hall where he spoke against the quarrelling nobles. However, despite his confidence in the party from who he trusts completely he can’t help but doubt that they may not be able to achieve what he, and the kingdom, need them to.

So let’s sit back, grab a coffee and let’s go for a ride.

Prince Tarley of Karne

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Prince Tarley of Karne – created by Copilot.

The road away from the Village of Chupak where he left some of his forces to help with the defence of the city while one of his spies, C’tik, led the adventurers deeper into the jungle. It wasn’t that he doubted his men’s re solve at defending the farming village or in the parties ability to keep their word. No the reports that he had heard had indicated that the force that was approaching Chupak were much smaller than what was initially reported.

He pondered while Steve, his faithful riding horse kept pace with his guard as they head back to the capital. He didn’t like brooding, he hated that archetype of being a broody prince and would fight against it if he could but he found himself dwelling on the situation in silence.

‘Sire,’ a tentative voice from Pious, one of the spies that attended his escort as a guard. ‘You’re brooding…’ the man teased with a knowing smirk.

‘Something doesn’t add up. C’tik has never been wrong before and yet the other reports of the force marching on Chupak indicate that he was. I don’t doubt our men, or my men that I sent into the heart of the jungle but something feels off.’ he said as he looked behind him at the wall of green indicating the edge of the jungle and beyond.

‘We can send in Toby if you’d like. To trail those adventurers to make sure that they keep up their end of the bargain. He is likely the only one who can remain concealed from C’tik.’ Pious offered.

Nodding in agreement he gave the order to send in Toby, one of his most skilled spies and scouts. ‘It’s not them I am doubtful about.’ the prince mused as he turned back to the road and continued on the road back home.

C’tik – Created in Nightcafe.

C’tik moved nimbly over the logs as he led the adventurers deeper into the woods stopping only to ensure that their passage was not discovered by the denizens of the swamp, yet. As he waited for the too noisy, too clumsy and too slow people the prince had trusted he waited and watched. He could see the signs of life all around them, drag marks from a crocodile taking something into the pond, tracks of monkeys and deer, birds and poisonous plants that littered the area.

This was his home, his place which he had been exiled from a very long time ago when he was deemed not strong enough to be with the other lizardfolk. He had tried to prove his worth by attacking a heavily guarded caravan with his other clutch-mates but he ended up captured and they, dead. He still remembers the ultimatum that he had been offered, be bound to the man they referred to as “Sire” or die after they had gotten the information out of him.

He still felt shame from how easily the location, numbers and methods of his tribe fell from his lips, clumsily, as the sorcerer that travelled with this “Sire” had understood what he had said, to some degree at least. But with execution and feeding the other warriors with his flesh being the alternative he chose life and bonded with the man called “Sire”.

He had lived a good life working for the man, using his skills and knowledge of the jungle to find bandits, armies, places or things for the man and it wasn’t until he met Her that things changed. Now he had a chance to get back what he had, a second chance at redemption, a regeneration of his reptilian nature that he could not pass up.

Crouching he felt the presence of the people behind him and he held back from lashing out with his tainted blades. Soon, he told himself as he looked back at them with his practiced human expression of a smile. ‘We will be there soon and then orders are over.’ he said as he pointed deeper into the jungle towards the great ziggurat where she waited. One so powerful as to remove the compulsion of blind loyalty to “Sire” and to fill it with hope and a sense of home instead.

Soon his orders would be over.

A big one is coming about this week with his adventure as we bring in another layer of complexity, betrayal and an overwhelming sense of hope from the most unlikely of places. However, it’s not the end to this weeks adventure and we have several more nights left to expand and shape the adventure. So don’t forget to come back each night this week as we expand the adventure, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Lillia and Laurence

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Tonight we meet two NPCs for this week, Lillia and Laurence. The daughter of Rhiktor and the orchestrator of the, now confirmed, kidnapping. However there is more than meets the eye with this as its more than just a simple ransoming of a wealthy family.

So let’s sit back, grab a coffee and plan out this wild goose chase.

Lillia And Laurence

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Lillia Shroud – created in Nightcafe.

The room was dimly lit with several candles and a single thick-paned window where the cold morning light was able to come in. Lillia was relatively comfortable and despite the roughness of the gag and bag that was shoved over her head she had been looked after rather well by her abductors. She had regular meals, had her privacy respected and wasn’t beaten despite the looks of pure distain on the faces of her captors.

It had been a few days since she had rushed to confront the aggressors at her home and since then they had made it clear that they did not want money, power or to blackmail her father. Now she had been born into nobility and Lillia had been taught the part her family played from an early age and she believed it was clear to what these people wanted. They wanted her father to act out and to use his somewhat new condition to seek revenge and get the vengeance that he desired against those that had captured her.

If her father acted rashly and released the monster that they all thought he was then it would be the end of him, his situation and his family. They would be hunted and destroyed by every hunter, adventurer cleric and paladin a like. They had tolerated his affliction since he kept it in check and was a model citizen, however, the moment that he slipped it would be the end of him.

Laurence – Created in Nightcafe.

The door opening at the end of the room startled her and she turned to see who she had assumed was the leader of the people that held her captive. “Now let’s not pretend to overlook that you’re an educated young lady and that you’d be well aware of what our objective is.” the man said as he walked in. “You can call me Father Laurence and I am the head of this little endeavour to call out your father.”

“You want him to come and get me.” she replied straigthening out her dress.

“Yes, that is the plan and he is proving to be remarkably resilient.” Laurence replied as he grabbed a tray of food and a tankard of water and brought it in to put down on the table in front of her. The food was hot but not lavish but she was still sceptical that it wasn’t poisoned or tainted.

“You want us run out, to be no longer influential.” she continued looking at the man, a cleric of some kind. “And I suppose that the food is tainted as a fail safe so when I am rescued by my father that it wont matter?”

“Not quite. I have no reason to harm you, you are pure and human. I care not for your families noble status and I hope that you can continue to make the right decisions and a positive influence in this city. However,” he paused as he looked back towards her as he left the room. “I do hope that your father appears soon so we can get rid of that abomination and in the name of our lord see his evil kind removed from our midst.” his eyes nearly glowed with the conviction of his words as he closed the door behind him.

Thanks for visiting for another night here at my tabletop. Don’t forget that we will continue to expand this adventure each night this week so don’t forget to come back tomorrow for more and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe