RPG NPC Portrait

Norturi of the Dead Sands

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

As the sun sets across the desert, Norturi of the Dead Sands makes her way to a bar. And that’s where the punchline of this joke would start however we have the encounter with the party instead. A tavern at the edge of the desert and a Tabaxi looking for some help in making it rich – what can go wrong?

So let’s grab a coffee, sit back and let’s roll into tonight’s adventure!

Norturi of the Dead Sands

408TuNoDeSa

Norturi – Created in Artbreeder.

Norturi walked through the mudbrick buildings as she headed towards the bright building simply known as the “Den of Thieves”. Not the friendliest of names for a tavern but the food was good, the iced ale was better. Striding to the door and ignoring the drunks outside she slipped a few coppers to the guard out front. With a nod the Guard didn’t bother checking her for weapons as she entered the building that thrummed with noise.

The alcohol, smoke and aroma of grilled food mixed together a heady smell that made her mouth water immediately. Finding what she was looking for, a table of tough looking mercenaries, she strode over. Her feline reflexes made it easy to avoid the items and feet that lay on the ground. As she pulled up a chair she started with her normal introduction, her name, her profession and what she was looking for. After a few moments of discussion the group of rough individuals asked if they could confer alone. She stood up and noticed another group of adventures; outsiders from the look of it, were watching her intently from a booth nearby.

Talking to the bar she got an iced ale, a speciality from this bar where the innkeeper grabbed a nearly-frozen tankard and filled it with ale that was cooled by large copper pipes which was crusted by frost – a gnomish invention she was sure. After grabbing her cold beverage she strode back to the group and watched as they finished talking – her instincts told her that there was something funny going on. They had never been wrong before so before she sat down she announced that she had changed her mind. The group, surprisingly, smiled and agreed that the job wasn’t for them before standing up, and leaving.

The adventurers nearby however felt more safe, more trustworthy. “Hi, I’m Norturi – a studier of ancient lore and I find myself in need of an escort to where I think a lost treasure is. What say you? Are you looking for some quick and maybe easy work?”

Thanks for visiting tonight as we find out two things at once, one that the Den of Thieves has chilled ale and that Norturi has, allegedly, some killer instincts. But to find out how good or bad they are you’ll have to come back daily this week to see where we go with this adventure. So don’t forget that tomorrow we look at the hook and twist of this adventure and lastly, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Huntmaster

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

As the hunt for the Tritnol commences the Huntmater, El’thirnol watches as Callum a small band together to try and claim the elves prize. However the huntmaster has other ideas. This week we expand the adventure further to get a glimmer of what is to come, a change in the air has the huntmaster, El’thirnol, waiting for a sign of things to change and an opportunity. But that’s looking a bit deeper into this weeks adventure and getting ahead of ourselves.

So to stay ahead of the pack let’s grab a coffee, sit back and let’s roll into tonight’s adventure!

Huntmaster

407TuHu

El’thirnol Wellundrae – Created in Artbreeder.

As El’thirnol watched the tavern change from silent individuals into hastily planning and scheming groups he could not help but grin. He knew that what Callum had described was a creature that lived in those mountains but it was not what he thought it was. No, it was something that El’thirnol wanted more than the floundering giants of the skies. He wanted a mighty hunting companion one which his long elven years could make good use out of.

And so the hunt was on, to bring back the eggs that would hopefully spawn creatures he was seeking. But as he watched several groups leave and sporting weapons that were not conducive to the mountains he had his doubts. Callum was holed up with a few of the village folk who adored him and believed his stories. However even the elven huntmaster could see that they would be trouble. Besides the idea of paying gold to the man and his rag-tag group of sellswords didn’t sit well with El’thirnol

Callum Winker – created in Artbreeder.

Behind him he could almost sense that the old elf was plotting something. Callum was used to twisting tales of his exploits to get what he wanted but being confronted was something new. He had boasted of his prowess in front of the elf before but this was the first time that the old man had been riled up about it. Something was not right here and Callum was going to prove the elf wrong.

The people around him were his fans, sellswords like himself who were spoiling for a good fight and adventure and better yet, they knew the mountains. With this group by his side he wouldn’t have to retreat before confirming the kill; like last time, instead they would be able to confirm that the job was done and get paid by that high and mighty elf.

Standing up he and the members of his team went off towards his lodge. There he would get the gear they need to ascend into the mountains and complete this challenge before anyone else.

El’thirnol watched the members of the groups leave until his eyes fell on another group. Adventurers from out of town it would seem. Approaching he sat down next to them and began introductions. If he could convince another group to get involved he could increase the chance of success for the safe arrival of the eggs and his future.

Now that’s all we have for tonight. But don’t forget to come back daily this week as we continue to expand upon this adventure one day at a time. And lastly, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Bartenders and Bouncers

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

Keeping with tradition of long hair and tattoos the bartenders and bounces of Hawks Creek, and the various inns and taverns within, are of a variety of appearances, backgrounds and ethnicities. Tonight we meet Skarldeg, Tildra and Gateth from a few Inns as the party are drawn deeper into the issues of Hawks Creek.

So grab a coffee, sit back and let’s roll into tonight’s adventure!

Bartenders and Bouncers

406TuBaBo

Skarldeg Bronzetooth – Created in Artbreeder.

As the frothy ale spilled into the tankard he grabbed some spices from a nearby small pouch. Sprinkling in the ‘additionals’ Skarldeg passed the ale over to the patron who smiled broadly and took it over to his table. The Rusty Pitchfork wasn’t as fancy as some of the other establishments in Hawks Creek but the half-potion-half-ale’s that he served made it a regular for many locals and visitors to the city.

Noticing Tilly sitting by herself at the window and gazing sadly out in the direction of her home, Skarldeg sighed. Now Skarldeg was by no means the best business man but he was also far from being the worst. Grabbing a wine, the only one he had – a fine vintage by his own taste buds but he was not known for being a wine aficionado – he looked over the various pouches he had until he found what he was looking for. The powder from the root of a certain lily, one that helped ease the mind and its tension. Sprinkling in just the right amount he placed it on a wooden board and turned around to talk to his cooks through an opening in the wall. 

Moments later he was grabbing food from the kitchen, and his cooks quickly bustled to meet his requests. Satisfied about the combination of meats and vegetables he then carried over the plate of twice cooked mutton, mushrooms and creamed root vegetables to Tilly.

Tildra Hillcrest – created in Artbreeder.

Tilly stared out the window in the direction of the still smouldering corpse of her dream. The fires of the Gilded Lily had been put out but the Inn and Tavern was not saveable. She had worked for over a decade to get it to where it was, a place of fine food and finer wines. “May I interrupt?” Skarldeg spoke from close by – but not to close. Tilly wiped away a tear that had snuck out unbidden and smiled up at her rival. Skarldeg wasn’t just a businessman he was also a trained apothecary. Blending his love of drinking and fine foods with his skilled knowledge of plants and minerals.

“You must be wondering what I am doing here still, huh? The famous Tildra Hillcrest taking pity from the mighty warrior and medicine man turned tavern-keep.” Tilly said with a smile. She knew that Skarldeg had a kind soul and she noticed the steaming food and goblet of wine. “You’re not trying to finish a job are you and fully take out the competition are you?” her question was met with a boom of laughter from the half-orc.

“Alas I am not smart enough for that. Just the daily special and my Lily-wine for someone who is down on their luck. I thought you may want something to temper the mind tonight is all.” he grinned as he slid into the chair opposite her. “Besides, it’s the ale that’s poisoned, not the wine” he said as he leaned back. Several patrons nearby spat out their drinks and looked mortified at the half-orc before he laughed again. Skarldeg had a rough beginning in the city but his personality and that booming laugh had won over the locals. Several at which laughed at his joke can toasted the burly tavern keep.

“Please. Enjoy. It’s not as good as what you serve but it will keep you fighting fit and help. But it’s better when its warm.” he urged her as he grabbed a mushroom from her plate and chewed on it thoughtfully. Tilly sat and ate the meal which was twice the serving size of her place, well what was her place. As she sipped on the wine she had to fight to hide the look on her face as the tang of the red wine slapped her like a physical blow. But the underlying botanical flavour; the lily powder, gave it a sweetness that she could feel soothed and calmed her. “You’re right. It’s not the same as what I used to serve. But it’s not bad, Skarl.” she said as the half-orc reached behind him to another table and grabbed a loaf of bread from a vacated plate.

“But its better than what the Gilded Lily will make from here on out.” she added with a sigh and returned her gaze to the window.

“Tilly, you remember when I first created the Rusted Pitchfork? That was the third business that I had tried to create here. The first was a store produce – but the markets were too fierce of competition. I then turned it into an alchemical supply shop, but after the sabotage and blackmail when I refused to reveal what was in my healing potions I had to close shop. But before I created this I could be found under every table at closing call, passed out. It took me a while to get to where I am now and I had some crushing lows.” he said, but as she looked at him funnily he winced. “Look, I am not good at this. I don’t mean to gloat but what I am trying to say is that you’ll be right. You’ll rebuild and bounce back. And the person who burnt down your place better hope the guard finds them before I do.” he said with a deadly serious look. “Stay as long as you please. I always have room for friends down on their luck.”

Gareth Fletcher – created in Nightcafe.

Outside of the Fatty Pheasant Gareth stood in the chilling evening. As the hired guard for the establishment he was paid well to keep an alert eye on the patrons, both current, prior and potential. As he scanned the street and smiled at those who walked towards the door he took note of any weapons, concealed or apparent and reminded them of the policy of the tavern – weapons at the front door.

Most if not all smiled and did as requested but the occasional noble born scoffed and refused before being barred from entry. They all complied in the end. Gareth was nearly seven foot with muscles to spare and a stare that had stopped hungry wolves in their tracks when he had been a guard for the barges.

Looking over at one of the windows he noticed a human walking slowly toward the window before stopping a few feet away. The bustle within and at the front door made him snap back to the task at hand as he was summoned to ask a noblewoman; it was always a noble, to leave quietly. After escorting her and her henchmen to the door, giving them their weapons before giving them a kinder farewell than what they deserved, he noticed the owner, Karl, was pointing at the figure near the windows.

Sighing he approached the cloaked human. “S’cuse me, you can’t just stare in the window. If you want to eat or drink, come to the door and we’ll find space.” he said as she walked closer. The human didn’t respond and just continued to stare. “Hey buddy, I said…” he began to repeat as he grabbed the man’s shoulder and turned him to look at him. Gareth was greeted by pale white eyes before the flash of magic illuminated the wooden building, his dark leather armour and the man’s lifeless face.

Now don’t worry about Gareth – he is sturdier than a minotaur. But this week we have some absolute cracker NPCs to meet and work with in working out what is happening in Hawks Creek. But we will be continuing the adventure each day this week, so don’t forget to come back daily as we expand the content of this adventure. And lastly, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

The Avermeet Guard

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

Avermeet forest and its water ways are protected by the Avermeet Guard. The elite warriors who uphold the laws around the forest and its animals but don’t confuse these warriors for any old park rangers. Skilled and trained by elves, druids and even some fey these warriors are skilled beyond belief – just a little short on numbers to be covering the entire forest.

So to meet some of the guard let’s grab a coffee, sit down and roll into tonight’s adventure!

The Avermeet Guard

405TuTAvGu

Kirili Draemelle – Created in Artbreeder.

As Kirili walked back to the village with the suspected poachers in tow she watched how they walked and listened to them. Admittedly they did not appear to be poachers and some of their story rang true. But the orders were clear, bring anyone in who is trespassing and then the head of the forest can question them.

Kirili noticed more traps and tracks along the way, a snare here, a pit there and evidence of cages being moved and dragged. The poaching had been going on for months now and certain species of animals were favoured above others. She just hoped that they could stop it soon before the damage to the population was irreversible.

Bareth Stoneleaf – created in Nightcafe.

Bareth strode behind the prisoners and watched her captain, Kirili, engaging in talks with them and grimaced. As far as she was convinced these poachers were going to be executed. They were basically caught red handed and were trying to deflect blame. She had to do something about it so that the reputation of Kirili and the Avermeet guard would not be tarnished as soft.

When they next stopped she grabbed one of the messenger hawks that they travelled with and quickly scrawled out a note to her uncle, the advisor to the lord.

“Prisoners in tow, poachers. They appear to have some sway with the captain. Be alert“

As she tied the message to the hawk and let it fly off a suspicious glance was sent her way from Kirili which she returned with a smile as she fetched some rations and gave it to the prisoners with a false smile. “Eat up now, we will sort out this mess once we get back to the village” she explained to them. Stealth and misdirection was one of the arts that the Fey taught the guard and she had always been a dutiful student.

Soon she would see these poachers behind bars or swinging from ropes and she would be rewarded. For really, only those who are focused in the cause of protecting the woods should be granted the name of the Avermeet guard.

Thanks for joining me tonight as we looked at two NPCs and a bit of the turmoil that sets up the primary plot this week. There is a bit of a gap between the start of the adventure and the twist, which comes tomorrow, but to find out what that is you’ll have to come back tomorrow. So don’t forget to come back for the rest of the content as we expanding content of the adventure and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

The Racing Riggers

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

The Racing riggers are a generalised term for the underbelly of the treetop racing yearly event that happens in Bramblewall. This group of loan sharks, thugs and brokers organises the betting system and, with either bribery or malpractice, will ensure that the racers who will make them the most gold, win or loose. But not everyone is within their grasp and tonight we get a glimpse at how far they are willing to go to ensure that the little gnome called Twig, does not shake the tree too hard.

But so we can get to that we need to grab a coffee, sit down and read through tonight’s adventure!

The Racing Riggers

404WeRaRi

Alkerion – Created in Artbreeder.

Alkerion strode through the beginnings of the racers market and marvelled at the goods and the people it brought to the village. Being the winner two years in a row Alkerion was a bit of a celebrity and many people called out to him to come and try their products or browse their wares. But he wasn’t interested in free samples – he showed off his presence to ensure that the market would be a success. He had always been focused on doing what was best for Bramblewall and keeping up the traditions. He hand picked potential elven stars of the race to come and fly birds from his roosts as they provided the best show for the viewers and brought more commerce into the tree top village.

But he could not abide the ruffians and the race riggers that had also called these events their home, their hunting grounds. They preyed on the weak and set back the good honest folk who were here to spend their coin and time enjoying what his village had to offer. Sure they had offered him wealth and riches but Alkerion only took what was required to keep the birds fed and his stable thatched.

He continued down amongst the tents and stalls and smiled, spoke and greeted the guests to the village, his village. The one his ancestors had built and the one he intended would remain a beacon for the elven customs for centuries to come.

Across the way between the walls of two fabric tents a man stood and watched the ‘prince of Bramblewall’ stride about the tents. He smiled at the prospect that this year he may be swayed when he revealed what was changing about his beloved sport. But perhaps he did not need to do much as the odds were always in Alkerions favour.

Jack Wilder – created in Artbreeder.

But that wasn’t the reason he watched the elf, no he would roll out that bait in just a little while. As soon as the elf was gone from view he moved forward and his associates began to move. As they approached stalls and tents they started their game. Talking about the odds of the races, how the last years races made a merchant richer than their sales ever could and how just with a little help from a friendly local that merchant walked away and was able to buy a mansion.

Most people showed them on but a few asked for more information. Jack knew that this is the moment he and his associates waited for and they reeled them in. Promises of assistance and even lending of money if they were short for making it big on the bets that were sure to employ all tactics to drum up the hunger for gambling.

Jack knew that this year would be ripe for the plucking but he still had that gnome to deal with. His boss had said that she couldn’t be bought, but Jack thought he knew better. A way to crumble to hearts of stone in one play.

The final pieces make a move to what will inevitably become the parties primary objective this adventure. Finding and stopping the threat of the Race Riggers. But more on that as the days go on. So don’t forget to come back each remaining night this week for more content and lastly, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Just Twig

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

The forest treetop town of Bramblewall is home to many races but most common is the forest gnomes and elves, and tonight we meet Twig, just Twig. Twig is a bit of an odd name for a forest gnome, let alone a person but she was anything but ordinary when she was found in Bramblewall.

Twig has big dreams to change the rules of the village, the rules that keep the little folk down and those of renown and prestige on top. But can the little gnome change how things are done in the village? Only time can tell.

Just Twig

404TuJuTw

Twig – Created in Nightcafe.

As Alkerion rounded the bend again Twig took down the lap time and calculated how many laps he, and his bird Jesper, would be able to complete with a full day’s flight. The only issue is that Twig knew that Jesper would need to rest after each flight due to the bird’s lower stamina. Landing and drinking deeply from a bucket of nectar Jesper panted as it recovered. Luckily Twig had something to show Alkerion.

“Alkerion! I think you should have a look at something.” she called out as she ran over with the data on her parchment.

“Did I get faster? How many laps per day do you think we can make?” Alkerion asked as she brushed bugs out of Jespers feathers and from his coat.

“Well yes. Overall faster but Jesper needs to rest for longer to get his energy from the nectar.” she began.

“Good, I will get Jesper ready to go at once to see if I can improve the time. How many laps per day was it?” Alkerion asked as he checked the saddle and harness again.

“26, but Jesper needs to rest more to feed for longer. So 24 or 25 at most is the safe number.” Twig said. “I have a solution though, a lightweight pack that enables Jesper to feed as he flies” she hurriedly spoke as she ran over with the contraption made from insect chitin.

“No, we’ve been over this poor Twig. Jesper will be fine. We just need to work on his stamina and all will be well. He feeds plenty when we stop. Any more and I will lose too much time.” Alkerion began waving off Twig and the contraption. “Stick to what you are paid to do, record my times, keep an eye on the competition. That is all you are good for so stick to it now little Twiggy.” Alkerion said as he mounted the giant bird. Jesper looked longingly at the bucket of nectar that lay half eaten as he still continued to pant.

“It’s Twig, just Twig.” she said back to Alkerion who flew off without registering her reply. Twig hated how he called her Twiggy. She was made for more than just this and she was going to prove it. She reset the device as the elf racer took off and watched as the numbers increased with the passing seconds and minutes. “Jesper deserves better.” she muttered as she walked off holding her invention.

The party knocked on the door at the cabin at the base of one of the trees. Looking up above the building ladders and stairs were built into the side of the tree and wound its way up into the treetop village above. A few moments of movement in the building passed before a man with a walking cane appeared. “I’ve been expecting you, come in please.” the kind old elf smiled and hobbled towards some seating made from smoothed out roots of the tree.

“Now I can’t thank you enough. As you can assume I am Julaor, not a very traditional elven name I am afraid but it is what it is.” he said with a smile as he offered some steaming cups towards them. “Fern-leaf Tea any one?”

After the party had sat down in the old elves hut he procured a large book from the table and opened it to a page. “I am the custodian of the races, a tradition that used to be a rite of passage for the young elves of this village. But over time it has evolved and changed and much like the great redwoods we live on we must adapt and grow over time. Each year I find the similar names on the roster and I ensure that they abide by the code with the mounts that they enter.” he said as he flicked deeper into the book.

“And the past few years, with the coming of the hubbub outside,” he gestured to the tent city of the Treetop Races market that was forming, “I find more people profiteering out of something that was a traditional ceremony. Now there are no laws against it but when it endangers the life of the riders that is something that I can’t abide by. This year though there is something unusual. We have new racers, not all too unusual admittedly, but new breeds of mounts have been added. We have a creature that I have been informed is herbivorous that meets the criterion and we also have our first mammal. Now I suspect that this will create chaos and a new market in which people can exploit. What I have requested aid in is protecting the riders, all of them, from outside influence and where you deem it necessary to step in further then I can give you the authority as Roost Wardens to manage the safety of the mounts and racers in this race.” he finished as he produced a wooden box.

“I can pay you this now, and then double again when the job is done if you are found to be up to the task. If you find the source of corruption I want it removed. But quietly. It can’t be found out that the village is orchestrating this, it needs to look like it was done by another’s hand. ” Julaor said as he looked at each of the adventurers before him.

A shorter one tonight, and that’s not a height joke due to the gnome at the centre of our adventure. This week the focus won’t be so much on the NPCs involved but the interactions on the players and the story. There are a few paths and ways out of this where we will investigate what is going on and how to overcome the obstacles. But for that to really take place you’ll have to find out what lies in wait for the party. So don’t forget to come back each day this week for the expanding content of the adventure and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Boris’s Guard

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

The men and women that Boris hire to be part of his crew when working for him are known simple as Boris’s Guard. They are far from elite warriors but under the firm guidance of Boris’s keen mind they have faced off worse foes than many. Despite all of them coming from a diverse background they each blended well and complimented their fellow guards skills well.

But not everything is always peachy perfect, there are rough spots to any team and Boris’s Guard is no exception. So grab a coffee, sit back and let’s explore what the guard has in store for us this week.

Boris’s Guard

403TuBoGu

Boris Izenhowlser – Created in Artbreeder.

The fog that had come in from the trees at night was expected. Boris had planned for this and had set up mounted torches at the edge of their camp that ensured that there were no significant shadows between the trees and where they had stopped for the night. Cookie, Luke, had organised enough food for the guard, the party and even the prisoners and was busy ensuring everyone got fed. When he returned from the wagons though he had a concerned look on his face.

“The prisoners won’t eat. They keep looking out beyond the torchlight like a Tarrasque is about to step out of it and eat them. Maybe the adventurers are right, when we saw those tracks the prisoners mentioned that something was after them.” he continued as he handed a bowl of stew to the party – it was good stew.

Boris was the last to eat and as usual as per the last few nights, he was the one who insisted that he walk to each torch mounted on a post and ensure that they were lit and placed correctly. As the guards watched Boris walking about, a large broad headed axe was held ready in his hand but swung by his side. “What do you think they did?” one of the guards, Ron asked. “If they are spooked by something following them, maybe they betrayed a cartel?”

“Nah I reckon they were found to be spies from the fey. You know that they inhabit these woods?” Kat said looking around the woods with a twinkle in her eye.

“You’re all wrong. They are just normal prisoners. Probably thieves.” Dorn said as he chewed on his stew.

“But why are we being paid this much to guard them to Pensevtil. You know that a wizard runs that place? He is only interested in the truly messed up and arcane.” Raff said boldly as he leaned forward.

Em Wannapeek – Created in Artbreeder.

“Now let’s not go looking into ghost stories now. We have reason to suspect that there may be people that want this group free but the chance of that is low.” Em, Boris’s second in command announced as she watched some of the other guards start talking. “Besides, we’re scarier than whatever is out there.” she added which brought upon a small cheer.

“Enough of that.” Boris said, appearing as if a ghost himself behind the guards. “I want three guards on watch at any time tonight. This fog may be natural but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Tomorrow we will ensure we set up above the fog so we have better visibility.” he said as he grabbed a bowl of stew from Cookie, thanking him as he sat down. 

“Now I spent some time thinking about the bandits that we encountered on the way here – I think they were just being opportunistic. Thinking to make some coin from the prisoners after they disposed of us.” he mused as he ate. “Any other theories?”

“From the ones we dispatched there was nothing to indicate otherwise.” Dorn replied, normally the silent one of the group.

“One did flee, but I got him with my bow” Kat said as she mimed firing an arrow.

“Yeah he won’t last more than a day with that wound” Raff added, the others and Boris nodding.

“But I don’t think he was that wounded. Something was a bit off about that one bandit fleeing. Normally Kat’s shots lay a man flat in the ground. But this one kept running. Something unnatural about that unless,” Em paused for a moment, “Unless Kat – were you off your game?”

Kat mocked looking shocked and insulted “Why I never. I am never off my game.” she replied, shooting a mock-glare at Em.

“Exactly, mark my words. That one that escaped wasn’t natural.” Em added. Boris nodded before adding “Ensure that we keep an eye out until we drop off the prisoners. If you see something odd, shoot first, ask questions later.” he said as he brought out a peculiar medallion and looked knowingly at everyone – the party inclusive.

The Guard

Luke Arden ‘cookie’ – created in Artbreeder.
Ron Kesper – Created in Artbreeder.
Kat Farmgate – created in Artbreeder.
Dorn Brumble – Created in Artbreeder.
Raff Blitzword – Created in Artbreeder.

It’s shaping up to be a big one this week and we have quite a few NPCs this week. I don’t go through all the Prisoners but having names will help at least, but that can be for another night. With tomorrow night changing what we know about this weeks adventure don’t forget to come back then. And, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Lore Keepers and Ladies

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

When people think of excitement they rarely associte it with the combination of Lore Keepers and Ladies. Generally those two are mutually exclusive, well depends in the circles in which you roam. But tonight these worlds collide as the Lore Keeper answers some questions from a visitor at his door and reveals another piece in the puzzle.

For those who patrol the streets and deposit the charged Lanternstones, Morrowstones in the villagers view, it is an unpleasant night to begin their shift. But for those of us who create adventures from these situations it potentially is a great way to start ours.

So as you sit down to enjoy this read, make sure to get yourself a coffee or tea and get comfortable as its another bigger one.

Lore Keepers and Ladies

402WeLoKeLa

The man picked up his little wooden box, a bit heavier than when he put it down and stretched. He had been the keeper of the history of Morrowdeep for half his life and yet he always found the need to make a few extra coins from the visitors to the city. Many people in the city didn’t visit the old library any more and those that did were normally adventurers who were asking for information.

Shortly after lunch, and long after his unpleasant interaction with the stupid dwarf Hiljor, he had a group of adventurers interested in the catastrophes of the city. The Cave-ins, the disappearances, even the night where the animals in the mountain pass went mad and attacked anyone outside of their houses. It was a good week before the last of the creatures were slain by adventurers and the guard. He hadn’t willingly parted with this information but gold pays for what Gregory needs and so it did, admittedly, loosen his lips somewhat.

Gregory Barker – Created in Artbreeder.

He fumbled with the lock of the Lore House, a library, and stumbled in after drawing his small lanternstone from the inside of his jacket. It wasn’t dusk yet but the windows in this building faced away from the setting sun which made it hard to see. As he moved about the room he placed the little wooden box on the corner and, after quickly looking around to make sure the coast was clear, bent down next to the little bench in the room. Moving aside a loose wooden board he pulled out a tiny chest and, hurriedly, he opened the wooden box and emptied the majority of the coins, coppers, silvers and a gold coin, into the chest before quickly replacing it and the board.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from the door. “Are you Gregory the lore keeper?” the soft voice continued. Startled, Gregory looked up and gazed upon a beautiful young woman that he hadn’t seen before. He was not sure if she had seen him transferring the coins to the chest or not.

“Well, yes I am. How can I help you my lady?” he said as he stood up, a moment too slowly. “You must excuse me as I had dropped my glasses.” he said as he grabbed a pair of glasses from the bench. Smiling, the woman walked forward and for a fleeting moment Gregory had an uneasy feeling of being hunted. But as the woman started talking the feeling passed “Sorry for startling you. I was wondering if you had any books or knew of lore on the town and on this mysterious stone.” She said as she pointed at the Lanternstone on the bench that shed bright light in the room that was nearly the same as a flame.

Isabella – created in Nightcafe.

Gregory smiled. “We call them Morrowstones as they are dug up in this village,” he said proudly as he moved to a bookcase on the wall. “The wizards did some extensive study into the stones and we captured it all in the Journal of Azkabob, a dwarven wizard of some repute. Now where was it…” he pondered as he looked through a shelf that was nearly overflowing with books and scrolls. A moment later he stopped on an old book bound in a blued leather. “Ah here it is.” he said as he brought the book down and dusted it.

“I have heard them called Lanternstone, interesting that they have names too. Do you know what’s in the book?” a voice said from his shoulder as dainty fingers touched his arm.

Startled for a moment with that flight or fight, primarily flight, sense tingling he stammered. “I… uh… have read it, but it would take me a few days to go through it again. Why?” Gregory replied as he turned to look at the woman. The light from the Lanternstone causing her green and brown robes to look yellow in its light.

“Uh I am a very fast reader. Is there anyone else who would know of the contents of the book?” she said as she stood nearby smiling coyly.

“I don’t think anyone has read this book since it was written, apart from me of course.” he replied, noticing the woman’s face shift slightly from coy smile to something hungrier.

“Oh what a shame, thanks for spending the time to look for it for me and talking to me. I’ve been travelling for quite some time and don’t get to talk to people too much.” she said as stood up straighter. A sudden gust of wind blew into the building and caught the doors making them slam shut. Jumping, the woman moved closer to Gregory and grabbed onto his arm.

“Oh don’t mind that, it’s just the wind. It comes right up merchant lane.” Gregory said as he looked at the door in wonder.

Smiling and looking down to her hands on his arm she said softly “No, it wasn’t the wind. It was me.” she said as she drew a blade from her hip and stabbed the old man between his ribs. As he fell, unable to talk, she grabbed the book from his hands. “The Journal of Azkabob, by Azkabob Ironbrow.” she muttered to herself as she opened the book and began to read. Finding the information that she wanted she ripped it out of the book and left it on the bench.

As the lantermen strode the streets and deposited the charged Lanternstone into their holsters they checked in on the Lore House as the door was open. The sounds of bells and alarms rang through the town as Morrowsdeep as people rushed to investigate the murder of the lore keeper.

A bit of a bigger one, again, tonight with two new faces for the NPC list, one very quickly deceased. Don’t forget to come back each day this week as we continue with this adventure. We have a few more nights to go where we can, with some excitement, get into the multiple options and adventures we have to go through. But don’t forget to let me know how the last Zine was – a different approach with having a varied party level within the adventure itself. And lastly, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Morrowdeep’s Miners and Minors

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

The village of Morrowdeep is filled with people. Tourists and the workers of the village far outnumber Morrowdeep’s miners and minors – the people who risk their life in the mines and those to young to know any better. This week we meet a few people in those categories, young and the old who call this city home – both are prey to the evil that now stalks this land once again.

Will history repeat itself or will the people of Morrowdeep learn from their past mistakes – only time can tell now. But without dawdling any more let’s look at Morrowdeep’s Miners and minors – the NPCs of this weeks adventure.

Morrowdeep’s Miners and Minors

402TuMoMiMi

Hiljor Ironbrow – Created in Artbreeder.

The young dwarven lass pushed through the large oaken doors to the Wispy Willow, one of the few drinking establishments that still let her in. She pulled up a stool at the bar and sighed heavily, she had just left this seat not even an hour ago and she was already sitting back down at the table. After a moment she felt the familiar presence of the bartender looming over her.

“What will it be now Hiljor? I wasn’t expecting you at least for another hour or so for lunch.” the older man asked without a hint of malice in his voice.

“That Gregory just riled me up, that’s all Pastor. I’ll just have some bread and cheese – will skip the ale until I can pay you back for the last one you poured me.” she murmured behind her heavyset arms. The man shook his head and disappeared behind the doors behind him. A few moments later a plate of bread, some cheese and some roasted meat was placed in front of her – with a mug of ale.

“If you can look at the lanterns and work out why they aint working that would count us square.” Pastor, the old innkeep, said with a smile as Hiljor looked up. Pastor was one of the last businesses in Morrowdeep that used the old lanterns instead of the Lanternstone. Hiljor appreciated this and was grateful that she could still use her natural affinity for this technical work to good use.

“I’ll have them working by the end of the day. Don’t worry about that, but I will still get the coin to you to pay for your hospitality” she mumbled, she didn’t feel like she could suffer too many blows to her ego today.

“Your dad was a good worker, a credit to the village. I just want to make sure that you have a better life here than he did. You should avoid Gregor, you can’t get in trouble with the guard again.” Pastor said as she tapped her twice on the shoulder and went to serve another customer.

Gwen Thistlewick – created in Artbreeder.

The forest was bright and noisy in the mid-morning sun and Gwen strolled more carefree than normally. Her older brothers stood nearby and stood watch while her and the other girls gathered mushrooms and other herbs. She knew what to look for most of the time and the order was rather large this time and some of it was harder to find. She thought she knew where to find the riverwort but her brothers refused to let her go into the woods.

But the order required it and if they didn’t bring it back they wouldn’t get paid well. As she watched her brothers keep a watchful eye for danger she slunk off. Being slight and smaller than the other older children it was easy to move about unnoticed and soon she was passing the thick bark of the trees that grew close to the river. As she pushed through the last bushes she spied what she was looking for – a fallen log sitting near a small stream.

She was always a studious student and could memorise the herbs, plants and mushrooms that grew in the woods, hills and caves near Morrowdeep. This made her a credit to her family’s name and she prided herself in her ability to source the rarest ingredients. Carefully looking around the trunk of a large tree she paused and looked about the river for signs of danger. Seeing none she moved forward quickly and drew the small knife that she would need to remove the fungi from the log.

She spotted it, there deep in the log the riverwort. Pushing herself deeper into the log she extended her arm and cut off many of the flat, liver looking fungus before crawling backwards. “Riverwort, useful to stop bleeding and can relieve pain and fevers. But you already knew that didn’t you lass?” a voice said from above her.

Startled, she fell backwards and let out a small shout – her brothers called her name in the distance. “I didn’t see you there. I swear I checked. How… Who…?” she stammered.

A young woman sat there in layers of green and brown cloth. She smiled broadly and produced a flower from a basket she had next to her. “Just a friend, I also was looking for riverwort and other ingredients. Do you know where I can find pink tongue? It’s been a long time since I’ve been in these woods and I can’t remember where they are.”

“You can find them closer to the mountains, they grow attached to the underside of the grew stones.” Gwen said as she took the flower the woman offered her. “Thanks, I haven’t seen a starburst lily outside of books.” she replied, looking at the flower.

“Must be the first of the season. Thanks for your help, miss…?” the woman smiled and waited.

“Gwen. Gwen Thistlewick.” Gwen said as her brothers called again, angrier.

“It sounds like you are in a hurry.” the woman said with a wrinkle in her nose. Gwen smiled, stood and as she dusted herself off she skipped off towards her brothers. She looked back towards the woman but saw that she was already moving off towards the mountains. She ran through the short distance of the forest to her brothers and, upon finding them she saw the worry and anger in their faces.

“Where have you been! I thought we told you not to leave the group?” her older brother, Caden asked.

“I found the riverwort – we needed it for the order and I knew where it would be.” she replied. “Oh and I got this!” she exclaimed as she showed the starburst lily.

“Where did you find that?” her other brother, Tom, asked. He was always more interested in the herbalism business than Caden.

“A woman gave it to me. She was looking for riverwort and pink tongue and I told her where to find it.” she replied with a broader smile. Tom looked to Caden, his face wrought with worry. “Starburst lily hasn’t grown here for years. Riverwort and pink tongue you said?” Tom questioned again, his hand going to an arrow and knocking it in the bow. “A curious mix. I think we best return back. I need to talk to the alchemist.”

Thanks for joining me again for another lengthy write-up. Don’t forget that this is just the second day of the week of content. So don’t forget to come back for the other days this week and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Doomguide Aspirants

thebrazenwolfeLeave a comment

Those who hear the call of Kelemvor rarely sit idly by and pray to heir deity for aid and prefer to worship their god in the actions they take. Those of which who are the most zealous, the most holy of Kelemvors warriors are known as Doomguide Aspirants – those who aspire to establish and maintain the natural order of life and death.

Despite being warrior priests these holy warriors are generally cunning, intelligent and empathetic to those that do not corrupt the natural order of things. However being cunning, wise and strong isn’t always the right mix for those who seek power at the same time as honouring their god.

Tonight content is focusing on a few Doomguide Aspirants and in particular the steps that they would take to ensure that the natural order of things, the holy decree of their god is ensured. So sit back, strap on your buckler and let’s swing into the thick of it.

Doomguide Aspirants

401WeDoAs

The halls were quiet leading up to the day of rituals for Richard Spiritbane and for those who are trained for the smallest noise in their hallowed noise that’s how the figures stalking the halls wanted it. Cloaked in a veil of silence and shadow the priests walked towards the crypt entrance, muttering a prayer to Kelemvor as they descended the hallowed steps.

The walls were lined with the Doomguides that preceded them, warriors all and not all of them had honoured their god by preserving the natural order of things. However the shadows and bubble of silence hugged the priests closer as they descended deeper into the crypts hoping that not even the bones of their predecessors would cast a judgemental gaze towards them. For what they were doing tonight could be misinterpreted as treason and the perversion of the natural order. As they reached a chamber at the bottom of the steps the silence and shadows slowly slunk back from the figures within.

“Are you sure about this Brother?” Haster asked as he looked towards his superior. “If Kelemvor is granting the High Priest an extended life then surely it’s the blessing as it is claimed?” he continued looking around nervously. If Brother Tobias found them down here he wouldn’t hesitate to mete out the justice of Kelemvor for what they were discussing. What made matters worse is that Brother Kindred wouldn’t let him and they would have another dead brother in the chamber of remembrance.

Haster Reart – Created in Artbreeder.

The halfling man to the right of Haster looked between him and those gathered around him. “You yourself have found it suspicious Haster that the lord of the dead who’s tenants is preservation of the natural order of life and death would willingly go against what he stands for. The extension of life is perverse and an affront to Kelemvor himself and I fear that the clergy is rotten to the core. There are those few, us, amongst our church who believe that no man, woman or child should be treated differently when it comes to Kelemvors’ beliefs.

Brother Kindred Ucklethorn – created in Artbreeder.

Brother Kindred looked up at the gathered priests, fewer than he had wanted. “With a small price we can dig out this evil and ensure that it never takes root again. With a smidge of power contained within these walls, the relics our brethren gave their natural lives to protect, we will start a new order. One that isn’t corrupt, which won’t twist the words and will of Kelemvor.” Spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke. How could the others disagree with his viewpoint at this stage? It was only logical, the only correct course of action.

Walking over to an entombed skeleton, one of his brothers, he smashed through the stone with the head of his mace. Reaching in he plucked out a length of ebony wood, a wand, one that thrummed with Necromantic energies. “This is the price of the bargain. Fret not brothers for once the truth is revealed and the correct course is set then it will be easy to retrieve this unholy relic and return it to the chamber of remembrance. “

The other priests looked from one another, a mixture of anxious energy, of hope and of belief swirled amongst them. Tomorrow before the rites could begin the truth would be revealed by the wizard and the perversion of Kelemvors’ word will be stopped at its core. The High Priest must not live past his three hundredth birthday.

Thanks for joining me for another fun one as we looked at the conspiracy that happened before the High Priests death. But this isn’t the cause, nor the full picture – oh no, that will come later. So make sure to not forget to come back and visit each day to keep unravelling this adventure with me and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe