short-story

The Cauldrons Price

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Some say that the Cauldrons price is your soul, others say that its a few branches and twigs. The truth is neither but its still a price that many are unwilling to take. Tonight we explore the cost and what people are willing to do to sake their desire for the Cauldrons power.

So sit down amongst the purple flame, settle down for there is a tale to tell in tonight’s adventure!

The Cauldrons Price

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As the party dispatched of the last big cat that had apparently been stalking them through the forest they realised what had cause either Sebastian or the Horse to be wounded. Finding the blood becoming less frequent but still horse and now human tracks moving up a narrow path towards where the purple light flickered the party readied themselves for what ever lay ahead.

As they moved up the narrow path that rose at a steep incline they began to realise how easily it would be to slip over the edge and, after a little while they found evidence it was also difficult for Sebastian as a bloodied hand print pressed against a flat bit of exposed stone. Hurrying now they reached a small overhang of rock where the purple light of a crackling fire shone on the rock above, the path underneath and the huddled form of Sebastian next to a cauldron.

A man sat stirring the pot as he glanced with tired eyes that appeared to be much older than he did. ‘More folk brought to the light of the Cauldron it seems. You lot though appear to be in much better sake than he did.’ he said as he nodded towards Sebastian. ‘I gave him what I could to heal the bite marks, but he lost a lot of blood and hasn’t woken yet. He is not long for this world.’

The man looked up at the horse who had ripped down a branch from a nearby shrub, the scratch marks on its side already healed. ‘It doesn’t work as well on animals you see. Works good enough on humans but animals. The Cauldron just heals minor things. Of course it can save the man here but there is a price. The Cauldrons price differs but for him to survive he needs to take my place. You see I came to the Cauldron with an incurable disease. The clerics turned me away and I would be dead soon but I followed the purple light and was put in the same place as he.’ he stopped for a moment to sip from a copper ladle.

‘Take the place of the Cauldrons Stirrer and you are granted immortality and your wounds and illnesses are healed. Stir for as long as you would have normally lived or until you find a replacement as there must always be one who stirs the Cauldron. Once you’ve served your time then you are free as long as you can get someone to stir for you. I have been free for a while now, a decade perhaps, but none have come to the cauldrons light to take the ladle – the Cauldrons price was too great.’

‘If he was to agree to the price he would survive, there is something else wrong with him, a deeper illness one that has broken the man he used to be. Even if his physical injuries were healed and his blood restored his life would be short any way. A “gift” of the cauldron,’ the man quoted looking sadly at it.

‘So if he does not stir, what is this man to you? Do you take him in his current state or do you wish for his life to be longer but bound to the Cauldron for the next fifty years.?’ he man asked as he stopped stirring

Thanks for visiting tonight to continue on with this weeks adventure. So Don’t forget to follow along this adventure daily for the remaining days this week and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

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

The Yuzalef Cauldron

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This weeks adventure revolves around the Yuzalef Cauldron, a vessel of both renown sought after for both its infamy and noble legacy. For who who do you blame when something is used for evil, the instrument or the minstrel?

So sit down, grab a bowl or two and let’s get stuck into tonight’s adventure!

The Yuzalef Cauldron is at the centre of many folktales in the region for the right and wrong reasons. Some say its the cure for all man-kinds illnesses, all curses and injuries heal before its healing broth. An equal number say that its broth traps the soul to burn the kindling that keeps the purple flames alive only to create more broth to ensnare more unfortunate souls.

One things for certain… Practices of the arcane would pay a handsome reward for any who can return with the cauldron and that its riches would buy a new life for any man or woman.

The Yuzalef Cauldron

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The Yuzalef Cauldron – created in nightcafe.

The party huddled around the camp fire of the travelling caravan that they had been travelling with for a few weeks as they moved through the region. As they all took a bowl of a crude, yet tasty and hearty stew they looked upon the mountains to the north of them. Slowly one by one they realised that there was a spec of light that flickered amongst the wall of trees that littered the mountainside.

Anyone would be forgiven for mistaking it as a campfire except for the flashes of purple that came from the same spot. The caravans cook, Sebastian, fancied himself in a league of his own for his cooking, and he was right but it wasn’t a league people wanted to be in. However, despite his failing as a cook he managed to have a story for just about everything, any natural or unnatural phenomenon he had an answer for it, fact or fiction was yet to be determined.

But old Sebastian followed their case and put his spoon in his bowl as he chewed on the knuckle bone of the rabbit they had caught. ‘Beware the the Yuzalef Cauldron.’ he said, punctuating his statement with a long pause. ‘Fear the lights you see on the mountain side as the possessed cauldron of Yuzalef calls souls to stir its contents. The purple lights attract the curious and those who are after a quick fortune as there is many a witch, sage and sorcerer who would pay handsomely for that nasty artefact.’ he said as he spat out the knuckle bone.

‘They say that the cauldrons flames are actually burning souls and that it uses the energy from those cursed by its broth to create more of its cursed liquid. But there are some who say that the cauldron’s broth heals all illnesses. Cures blindness, regrows limbs and restores the mind.’ he had a wistful look on his eyes now.

‘No one knows the truth of the Yuzalef Cauldron. But one thing to be certain is that all those that have sought it out have not be heard of again.’


The first full week of adventure of the year and we are already into the second week. Thanks to all of my return readers who follow along my long, seemingly endless tales of adventure and for the newcomers in this year I welcome you to my tabletop. Don’t forget that this marks the beginning of the week of adventure where I will expand the characters, twists and turns, places and adversaries over the coming few days with… something a bit different the end the week.

Don’t forget at the end of each week this year I aim to get an adventure out for you to download and use at your tabletop. So make sure you don’t forget to follow along this little project of love of mine 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

The Demiplane of Isolation

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The party must find a way to open a portal to the demiplane of isolation where the Forgotten One, Grehy, has taken Elara as a final insult before they retreat to their native plane. The Red Lord, using his divine power aims to creates a rift that allows them passage but what lies on the other side only time will tell.

So let’s sit back, buckle up for the last adventure of the year!

The Demi-plane of Isolation

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The Red lord steps towards the empty archway where one of the gates to Felmore stood before the siege tore it down. Placing his large hands on the cold stone he hums a jolly tune which creates sparks of gold and red to dance from his fingertips across the rock. A fey heartbeats later and a large shadow pulls itself from the ground and knits itself to the stone, creating a passageway to the demi-plane of Isolation.

After all the preparation they can manage in the short timeframe they have they all bolster their resolve and step through the shadowy gate and into something unexpected. A world much like their own but devoid of anything and everything. There is no colour, no warmth and no sun as the world is dimly lit in greys and monochrome.

‘A plane of existence where only one can dwell, only Grehy can live here as the plane will kill anything and everything else. Even her servants and those Wraiths that we fought do not survive here for long.’ the Red Lord muttered with a look of depression on his face. ‘I wish there was another way, I wish Grehy would forgive themself and see the joy in life.’

The demi-plane of isolation is a desolate and haunting realm. The sky is filled with a constant grey overcast that casts a pale light across the landscape which is barren and lifeless. The air is thick with a sense of… nothing, the crushing and empty nothingness that only Isolation from existence can bring. The ground beneath the parties feet is cracked and dry, and shadows move unnaturally at the edge of your vision.

As the party continue, a faint sound carried on the wind of a defiant hymn being carried across from a distant place, the constant emptiness and crushing isolation starts to wear them down. As they move deeper there are point where the wind carries and the landscape distorts the sound of Elara in the singing in the distance and they have to regain their bearings to continue their search.

It wasn’t long until the party reach the heart of the demi-plane of isolation, a large towering building that rises from the ruins of a city. From the desolate fortress beyond them they can clearly hear Elara singing a hymn of the Red lord and a dash of colour can be seen deep within a large building in the centre.

The fortress is a twisted reflection of the world, its halls echoing with only their footsteps and the phantom sob of someone who lost their fight with isolation long ago. At the centre of the fortress, the Forgotten One stands, their form shrouded in darkness, powerful and foreboding. Elara is bound in chains of shadow, her face pale but her eyes filled with determination as she continues to sing out the hymns of forgiveness, mercy and joy.

The forgotten One, Grehy watches them like a cat, ‘You have come this far, but you shall not take her from me. This realm is mine, and here, you shall disappear like the rest of them. Soon this girls sobs of sorrow will live forever in this plane. A reminder of those who stood against me and eventually lost.’

The final battle begins as the party confronts the Forgotten One, rushing forward as she goads them and flaunts her prisoner, Elara, before them. The minor-deities power is beyond formidable, and they uses the demi-plane to their advantage, creating illusions and manipulating the environment to isolate and rip at their defences. However Elara aids where she can with songs that bolster their resolve and the Red Lord tries to subdue the forgotten One with his physical strength as he grappled, threw and battered them into submission.

The battle is fierce and disorienting, with the Forgotten One using every trick at their disposal to isolate and defeat the party. There attacks are swift and relentless, designed to break their spirits. The party fights back with determination, their resolve strengthened by the presence of the Red Lord and their desire to save Elara.

Finally the party strike a powerful blow against the Forgotten one where the chains that restrained Elara shatter freeing the cleric. By placing a red candle at the knees of the deity the cleric and Red Lord lock away her power and send her into a suspended state for as long as the candle burns. It is not a permanent cage but the Red Lord forbids the destruction of Grehy, one who he wishes to save and redeem one day.

‘We have done it. The Forgotten One is a threat no more, and Elara is safe. But we must leave this place before it collapses completely. Quickly, follow me.’ The Red Lord states as he guides them back the way they came, through the lonely citadel and back to the gate that still glows with warmth.


Thanks for visiting for the second last part of the adventure this Dice-ember. Don’t forget to come back the new two days as we wrap things up and conclude on Christmas Day. And lastly, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Back to Felmore

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The journey back to Felmore is filled with a mix of motions, primarily anticipation and hope. The Red Lord, now rejuvenated and full of purpose, walks with the party, the glow of his restored power radiating hope and warmth. The path is no longer fraught with danger, but a sense of urgency propels them forward as the travellers they pass flock to follow in the Red Lords wake.

Yet a feeling of worry sneaks in between the feeling of warmth and hope from the Red Lord as the unmistakable influence of the Forsaken One can be seen on some of those that muster around them.

So sit back as the party has a small break, some moments of celebration and a warm welcome for a change!

Back to Felmore

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The road back to Felmore was busier than they had expected. As the party made their way down the roads and passed travellers by, several stopped to stare at them. They couldn’t be blamed as the party was walking with a living and breathing deity. Despite the Red Lord walking in his shorter human form people still stopped, pointed and followed him as they moved down the road. Soon a small horde of people were following the party and their companion singing the hymns of his church and calling out that he had returned.

Patrols still searching for the party stopped and gawked as they saw the man that they were with, some just moments before trying to arrest them. As they camped a small village sprung up around them and they, along with the Red Lord, was brought food, drink and any form of comfort that they may need. As the night went on the songs of merriment associated with the Red Lord grew more numerous but, all was not merriment and celebration.

There were travellers on the road who marched forward away from the city with the same sullen expression that they recognised from being influenced by the creatures of the Forgotten Deity. Some managed to break from their stupor and others continued without recognising that there were people trying to assist them.

By midday on the following day the party began their true approach to the bustling gates of Felmore, the city rising before them with its high stone walls standing tall and sturdy. The sight of the Red Lord, accompanied by the party, brought gasps of surprise and awe from the guards and hurried celebration and shouts of alarm to ripple down the streets. By time they arrived at the Red Lord’s Church word of their arrival had spread quickly, and a large crowd had gathered to witness the return of their beloved deity.

However the next words from the Red Lords mouth changed the atmosphere instantly.

‘People of Felmore, my followers and those who walk the path of second chances and joy. I have returned but not without the assistance of true believers. With me before you stand those who have risked everything to restore hope and mercy to our land. Despite being accused of a murder that was not true, despite being hunted by those who called themselves true believers in our teachings and despite the risk to themselves and their lives they fought to free me. The accusations against them were false, a dark plot orchestrated by one who sought to bring despair and isolation upon us. One that has been forgotten for far too long’ he paused, his voice echoing down the streets with diving power.

‘The forgotten one returns and seeks to plunge the world into isolation and despair. A waking banishment where family, friends and neighbours are stripped from you. There but unable to be seen, touched or heard. I ask you all to stand with your brothers and sisters, your family and friends, your neighbour and the strangers amongst you. Stand together to fight back against the darkness that threatens to take everything from you. Just as these heroes stood firm I ask you to do the same.’

Thanks for joining me tonight for the homecoming that no one really wanted. Tomorrow we start the final push to the end of the Dice-ember adventure and the end of the year. So don’t forget to come back each day leading up to December 25th where, the Red Lord Willing, I’ll have something wrapped up in a little bow for us all. 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

The Crypts Trials

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The Crypts Trials haunt the party this week as they move forward into what they hope will be the final hurdle in their quest to save the Red Lord and their clear their names. However the ancient trials and tests within the crypt are not all that waits and there is something darker and more malicious within this Crypt.

So grab a notepad and pen, sit down and get ready for the Crypts Trials!

The Crypts Trials

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The Crypts Trails – created in Copilot and Nightcafe.

The party lands upon the bottom of the flight of stairs after descending sixty or so feet. The entrance behind them reveals the canopy of trees and the night sky beyond but before them is old chiselled stone that has not lasted the test of time. The air is cold, damp and earthy with the only light comes from their own light sources and the Red candle that flickers in Elara’s hands. As the party delve deeper into the crypt it begins to feel that it is more a maze of corridors and chambers rather than structured and ordered space.

As they continue the rooms and corridors they encounter seemed designed to trick, delay, and confuse any who dare enter as they are nearly all identical even down to the same piles or rubbish and bones within the rooms and against the walls. However after noticing something odd about one of the rooms they discover a cleverly disguised adjoined corridor

After but a few moments travelling down the new corridor the first chamber they enter is a large, circular room with a high ceiling. In the centre of the room stands a pedestal in which rests a glowing crystal. The walls are adorned with murals depicting scenes of ancient battles and forgotten heroes, all crumbling to ruins and to be forgotten soon. As the party approaches the pedestal, a low hum fills the air, and a voice echoes through the chamber.

‘To proceed, you must answer the riddle that guards this chamber and this is third of three such rooms. Only the worthy may pass and only those who pass are worthy.’ a voice comes from the room itself as the crystal in the middle of the room starts to levitate and thrum with arcane magic.

After a few heart beats the voice speaks again ‘I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?’.

The party listen to the words and as they sit their in silence the soft drip of water in some corner of the room echoes out. Inspired with the answer the party gives their response to which a section of the wall grinds away revealing another passageway deeper into the crypt.

As the party step through the end of this corridor they are greeted by a series of walls. After a few minutes the realisation of what this chamber represents hits hard, this chamber is a labyrinthine corridor filled with mirrors and illusions. The walls seem to shift and move as the party navigate through the maze which makes standard tricks for overcoming a labyrinth less useful, but not useless. After a few moments they find that they reach the centre of the labyrinth where an identical crystal from the one earlier sits on a similar pedestal.

‘Only those who see through deception shall find the true path. Navigate the path laid before you and reach the door on the other side.’ the voice calls out once the party approach it. The party hear from somewhere deeper in the room the sound of metal grating as a something in the maze shifts. Whether something opens or something closes it is nearly impossible to tell.

Reaching the exit of the maze they recount the guardian creatures that had begun to stalk them which forced them to move faster through the maze. Luckily the walls ceased changing but the threat of the creatures cornering and attacking them urged them onwards. However this caused them to miss obvious queues and get lost as they made simple mistakes. As they burst through the last parts of the maze and closed the door behind them a loud grumbling echoes out from behind them as tremors could be felt through the ground. Looking in the room behind them they managed to watch the last of the walls that made up the maze shift into the floor to be swallowed back up by the room that created it.

Ahead of them the third chamber is a vast hall filled with statues of ancient warriors. Nearly each statue holds a weapon with more scattered on the floor around them. The floor is inscribed with a large, intricate pattern where the party can see a depiction of a battle from some long forgotten time. At the far end of the hall is a corridor that is barred off with a large statue standing firmly in the middle of passage. Suddenly a voice from their left makes them jump as another crystal glows into life.

‘The key to the gate ahead lies within the pattern. Match the weapons to their correct owners, the corresponding places where they would have stood on their last march, and the way shall be revealed’. The party move forward to look at the statues. after a moment they place the dropped weapons in the hands of the statues in which the weapons which was closest to them. As they place the last weapon an image of a full moon glows in the centre of the pattern and a few statues have their eyes glow.

After some trial and error and watching the moon imagery in the centre of the moon wane from full to near new, or the dark of the moon, they worked out the pattern. With a satisfying click the gate in front of them receded into the wall revealing the corridor before them. As they approached the final statue, a much newer and pristine stone its eyes burned alive and a cold voice resonated out.

‘You have made it this far Guardians of the light but here you shall remain. But to make this interesting so your final moments to let you know that you have truly failed. A riddle that will haunt you for the rest of your isolation and fuel your despair.’ it paused for a moment its massive arms moving to grip onto the stone handles of weapons at its back.

‘My life can be measured in hours, I only serve to be devoured. Slim, I am quick. Fat, I am slow. Wind is my foe.’ it said, slowly and menacingly with a hissing like rhythm. As it waited for the parties response.


Thanks for coming tonight and for continuing with this journey with me. Don’t forget that I publish content for this adventure daily leading up to Christmas so don’t forget to come back daily 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