Dreadlord Campaign

DL Campaign Session 6

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Characters 

  • Malik – Fighter 1 – a Thalazian blade master, with a spiffing helmet decoration. 
  • Cleitus – Magic-user 1 – a thin young man with a fascination for the moribund.
  • Aetos – Magic-user 1 – An Urr experimenter in the arcane. 
  • Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 1 – A Dervish gentleman posing as a trader, known for dark whispers. 
  • Chiron – Magic-user 1 – Come to expand his knowledge. 
  • Vahan – Fighter 1 – Deep voiced and broad shouldered. 
  • Maximus – Paladin 1 – Oath, “I dedicate myself and my actions to Phoebus. No matter the cost, I will fight for a world guided by law that is free of corruption.”

Retainers 

  • Antifus – Ranger 1 – currently wounded. 
  • Niarchos – Paladin 1 
  • Mamercus – Fighter 1 – master of the shield. 
  • Sharif – Thief 1 – cunning and wry. 
  • Aegon – man at arms – Vahans squire. 

The party started the session in quite a sticky situation, the survivors of the weasel assault were terribly lost in the middle of night. With some quick thinking from Malik the party orientated themselves using the two moons. They rode north but weren’t clear on where exactly they were. By sunrise they came across the old mine they had discovered. From there they rode back to Rubble Diamond. 

The party met up with the new characters, Chiron and Maximus. Jassan was reunited with the party as well. They had completed their mission to assassinate the wizard in Grand Alum, but unfortunately the character who had made contract was dead and hadn’t shared information about the patron. 

Oh well, they took Jassan’s advice and decided to deliver the magic sword of Gunther Wyrmslayer to Lord Blanbot who was attempting to bring this hex under his rulership. As the party began to prepare their horses, the Cleric of Ariens temple, Hel, came out to offer them his blessing. Hel wanted the sword to remain in Rubble Diamond, but the cunning tongue of Jassan had convinced the towns elders to release it to Blanbot so he might kill the dragon in the south. Hel was’t totally happy with this. 

As Hel bid Jassan farewell he muttered some magic words, casting a spell. His face changed instantly and he retreated to his temple whistling for his men to gather. Jassan inferred that the man had cast detect alignment on him, and was now pretty panicked. I wonder why? The party quickly rode off with the sword whilst Hel’s men took out their nags prepared to give chase. 

The party managed to evaded the fighters of Hel with a 70% chance, and then rode to the Villa of Blanbot. This was the first time they had encountered this subhex. There was a white walled villa atop a hill, fairly new in construction. As they approached a blue skinned herald rode out to meet them. The Urr herald was named Maloni and he began questioning the party. This wasn’t exactly going smoothly, as the party said they were arriving on behalf of Rubble Diamond, the same town that had been resisting Blanbots rule. 

Just as the diplomacy was getting going, and the PCs were explaining how they wanted to offer the sword to the lord, in the distance fifteen men riding horses were fast approaching. What happened next was pretty chaotic; Maloni blew a horn to prepare the villas defences. The attackers charged into firing distance with their short bows. Maloni began to doubt the party’s intent, and then Chiron tried to cast Charm Person on Maloni. This went terribly, as the herald won the initiative and managed to flee back to the villa and out of the magic-users spell range. 

The herald then initiated a volley of arrows at the party by blowing a horn. Simultaneously the attacking riders from Rubble Diamond were just coming into firing range. It looked pretty dire if they stayed around, so the Party fled, and with some lucky rolls were able to evade again. 

Riding as fast as they could they went north, but they were aware they were leaving a large trail of hoofs behind them. They spent an hour trying to find somewhere to hide, but only found a small woodland parted by a brook. This searching and backtracking around the hex allowed the stalkers to find them when they passed their search roll. 

The party heard the fifteen riders approaching from outside the wood. For some reason the party decided to dismount and allow them to come. Jassan hid the sword in the babbling brook. 

The riders approached, ready for a fight, bows at the ready. But the party surrendered immediately. They were instructed to lay on their bellies. All did this except for Cleitus, who, for some reason, refused to lay down, even after many warnings. He was then peppered with arrows and was sprawled out dead upon the ground. 

The warriors of Rubble Diamond then went through all the parties gear, but couldn’t find the magic sword. They pilfered all the gold they could find though, and why shouldn’t they keep it? There were some back-and-forths with these men, but ultimately the warriors decided to bring the party back to Hel as captives. They bound the PCs hands, tied them together into a chain gang, and began slowly walking them towards the South-West. 

This was when the party had a stroke of luck, their first in the session. Since their savage crimes against the barbarians of Grand Alum during the previous session, I had added those same barbarians to wandering monster tables of the grass hexes. Well, after two hours of walking they crossed into a new hex and with a roll of the dice the barbarians were summoned to try and get their revenge.  

Seven barbarians mounted on horses and carrying short bows crested a hill to the South, silhouetted by the sun they gave out a terrible war cry and began raining arrows down. 

There was a brief firefight between the mounted bowmen of Rubble Diamond and the barbarians, with large casualties on either side. Eventual morale checks when both fell under half strength caused both the fighters and barbarians to flee on the same turn. In all six fighters died and five barbarians died in the forty second skirmish. 

The party had no gold, no gear, but they were alive at least. Quite lucky considering. They marched to the Villa of Blanbot and begged to be taken in. There was a brief audience with the lord before the end of the session. They have agreed to find the sword, give it to him, and then quest for him to prove their loyalty. 

We’ll see what happens next, the situation in this hex is becoming more and more chaotic. Great fun. 

Judges note : riding horses and short bows are bloody amazing in the wilderness. Remember that all distances are measured in yards in the wild. Let the arrows rain. I approve this message. 

Also posted at Dragonsfoot.

DL Campaign Session 5

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Player Characters 

  • Malik – Fighter 1 – a Thalazian blade master, with a spiffing helmet decoration. 
  • Cleitus – Magic-user 1 – a thin young man with a fascination for the moribund.
  • Aetos – Magic-user 1 – An Urr experimenter in the arcane. 
  • Eos – Assassin 1 – a scrappy killer in the making. 

Retainers 

  • Antifus – Ranger 1 – a wise walker of the wild.
  • Brutus the wardog.
  • Mamercus – fighter 1 – likes a drink, likes a fight, in for a penny, in for a pound. 
  • Dill – man-at-arms – wild red haired warrior. 

The night was long and cold after the parties return to Rubble Diamond. Many things occurred during the downtime period between games, things that shall remain secret. The party, led by Jassan, had a meeting with the elders of the village. It was decided that the sword of Gunther Wyrmslayer should be presented to Lord Blanbot in the north. Jassan and Aetos spent the evening in the luxuriant villa of ruling merchant and factory owner Bianor. They emerged in the morning looking rather worse for ware, and not uttering a word of what occurred within. 

The party discussed what they would do next. Jassan would stay behind with the sword, while Eos proposed the party help him with with a profitable job. Eos had been given a contract to assassinate a wizard in Grand Alum and retrieve his spell book. For this he would gain 720 gp. The person offering this work was the wizard’s rival, both were apparently apprentices to a great sorcerer. It seemed like good coin for easy work. All remaining PCs agreed to tag along and split the reward, all except Niarchos the paladin, who Malik though it wise not to bring on this adventure. Very wise too, for he’d definitely disagree with such bloody business. 

The horses were strapped with their bridles, mounted, and whipped towards the east. Off they went again, south of the vineyard of Pralan the cyclops. Whilst traversing this area they witnessed the jungle snap back as a figure lunged into the long grass. Behind this dark shadow several armed men carrying swords and longbows darted into the grass. Being mounted and aware of an ambush the party peeled off to the north as quickly as possible. As they fled, the long grass parted and a great panther came darting after them. Looking over his shoulder Aetos saw a barbaric man riding the great cat, calling after them and lashing a whip. The horses were far to fast for this lithe beast and they made away. Some hours later they were in the small village of Grand Alum. 

They arrived at the tavern and paid for a nights stay. It was still early, only around ten in the morning. The PCs decided to gather some rumours. Who was this wizard and where was he staying? They soon learned that he was staying in the very inn they now stood, and apparently guarded by seven barbarians. 

The party lingered in the bar around for quite a few hours, hoping to see if the wizard would emerge. Finally the barbarian guards arrived, led by a warrior wearing blue scale mail. The barbarians all floundered to celebrate and toast their leader, a broad shouldered Thalazian named Cratus. The barbarians spent hours drinking, gambling and bantering. Eventually their leader received a lovely meal of roasted quail and honied parsnips. He taste tested the meal for poison and took it upstairs to his ‘master.’ 

The steel was hot! The party finally found their opportunity to strike at the wizard. Cleitus developed a cunning plan. He ordered the barbarians several rounds of wine. After the excessive amount they’d already consumed, several of them began to pass out or vomit. 

Malik and Antifus went upstairs to see what room the wizard might be in, followed by Eos. Soon Cratus came out of a door carrying the dirty tray, and locked it behind him. There was an intense stare down in the hallway between the two Thalazians, but Cratus soon went back downstairs. Eos then tried to pick the lock to the wizards room, but failed. 

Back in the bar the barbarians were a drunken wreck and decided to go to bed. Cratus descended the stairs and Cleitus once again tried his tactic of plying alcohol to his victim. After a couple of rounds of wine Cratus was vomiting through a window, just in time for Eos to come back downstairs and lift the keys from him. 

The stumbling warrior finally decided to go back upstairs to hit the hay. Alas, they heard his cries when he couldn’t find his key chain and began banging on the barbarians door to let him in. Cleitus and Eos ran upstairs to see what the kerfuffle was about. Cratus and two barbarians, drunk and raging, marched off to find their keys. Cleitus figured this was the perfect time to cast his sleep scroll. All three men hit the floor like wet mops. 

This initiated a serious conversation between the characters. Should they drag these men into their room and slit their throats? Could they do that? No, no, they would let them sleep, and instead kill the wizard and flee. 

Using the key Eos opened the door to the wizards room as quietly as he could. Inside a hunched figure worked at a desk, and peering over him was a two-foot tall genderless creature. Eos snuck into the room, grabbed the wizard and quickly slit his throat. Blood pumped all over the assassin, but he sealed his victims mouth to prevent any scream. As soon as the wizard died, the strange grey man atop the table melted like a candle and erupted into flames. Malik and Cleitus rushed into the room and collected the papers strewn about the table. 

They searched but couldn’t find a spell book. After patting down the corpse they felt a mass in the chest. They parted the wizards tunic and saw a terrible tiny grey man growing out of the corpses chest. It clutched the spell book tightly. They snapped off its terrible little arms and collected the book. 

“What the hell do we do now?” Two of the party were covered in blood, there was a weird mutated corpse with its throat slit, and a bizarre melted man on the table. They came up with a plan in record time. They’d frame Cratus, the man paid to guard the wizard. They dragged the sleeping warrior into the room and drooped him over the bloody body, knife in hand. Then they washed up as best they could and fled the inn; though not before Cleitus decided to ‘gift’ Silas the inn-keep twenty gold pieces. 

“We were never here.”

They mounted their horse and rode into the night, a job well done. Alas, they rode so hard they totally lost their bearings. After an hour of riding too and fro they found themselves at a woodland they didn’t recognise. A perfect place to camp? Apparently so. The party set up a series of watches and untethered their bed rolls. 

In the dead of night, two moons gibbous overhead, a terrible mewling was heard by Eos. It was like a barking or shrieking, but definitely not from the mouth of a dog. Eos lit a torch and peered into the wood’s yawning mouth. Eight needle lined maws came rushing out at him. Giant weasels! Brutus the wardog began howling and the party awoke in panic. Dill, the recent hire, ran headlong into the fray but was instantly torn apart by three of the fiends. Confused and dazed the party darted around the campsite swinging at the creatures. The weasels lunged and snapped at their quarry. One was felled, then another, but Eos had one leap on his face slash his eyes.  Then Antifus was surrounded and set upon. Brutus the hound slew one of them, just for another to leap on his haunches and tear out his throat. Defeat seemed imminent, but finally another weasel was crushed below a blade. The remaining creatures fled.

The party started to regroup, wrapping a bandage around Antifus and calculated their losses. 

Dead – Brutus the wardog, Dill, Eos. 

What will they do next? 

Also posted at Dragonsfoot

DL Campaign Session 4

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Characters 

  • Malik – Fighter 1 – a Thalazian blade master, with a spiffing helmet decoration. 
  • Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 1 – A Dervish gentleman posing as a trader, known for dark whispers. 
  • Cleitus – Magic-user 1 – a thin young man with a fascination for the moribund.
  • Aetos – Magic-user 1 – An Urr experimenter in the arcane. 

Retainers. 

  • Antifus – Ranger 1 – wise walker of the wild.
  • Niarchos – Paladin 1 – his oath, “To aid as much as he can those who protect the weak and fight against the arrogant who try to rule the world by violence and cunning”
  • Sharif – normal human – cunning dervish man.  
  • Brutus the wardog.

The party had a week of downtime where they gathered rumours and did some magical crafting. I shall try to keep this campaign journal concise, because quite a lot happened. 

Rumours & hooks: 

  • Offered a quest by Hel of the Temple of Arien. To see if rumours were true about a dragon to the south. If evidence was returned, such as dragon dung or scales, a good chest of gold was offered as reward. 
  • The Crimson beastmen of the jungle have been attacking from their grotto of crucifixion. The party were asked to investigate this place, and a reward of 25gp per beastman head was offered. 
  • Eos was approached by a MU named Urian Faqu who wants his rival assassinated. The rival is currently in Grand Alum to the south. He will pay 360gp to have him killed and his ear brought as proof. Double if his spell book is collected. 
  • A peasant came looking for help. Three witches have been harassing him. He was told his land would be blighted unless he paid them. 
  • A glass cutter approached the party, his daughter had recently joined a cult of strange men in white robes who offered her ‘pleasures unbridled.’ He desperately wants her returned. 

The team decided they would explore the Harrow Hills to the south. They recently spent all their gold on riding horses, so they figured they could explore the region a little, mapping its geography along the way. Entering new hexes awards xp. 

They made good headway, riding east, cautiously avoiding the vineyard of Pralan, the cyclops. Riding south they noticed a gorge with wooden shacks, props, and scaffolding built around a large cave. The place looked abandoned. They noted it on their map and rode east. Soon they came into contact with the Red Jungle yet again. In the tree line they saw many figures lurking, hands gripping the trunks of trees, glistening eyes watching them. The party avoided this place and rode south, where they soon came upon a small town of around fifty houses beside a river. There were two notable buildings here, one a large stone building atop a hill plastered with military banners, and the second an ancient bathhouse. 

Many goat herders grazed the lands around this town. The party approached one of them and milked him for information. He was terrified of a dragon he believed attacked his goats during the night. He also told the large building in town was a fencing academy, owned by an old warrior family who’d lived in the area for generations. 

The party rode into this town, which they soon found was named Grand Alum, visiting the local wine-house; Horns A’merry. The party got fleeced by the local drunk, ol’ Ezekiel, who told them all the information they could ever desire to hear; just so long as they filled his cup with wine. He told how he’d seen the dragon eat at least twelve goats in a single bite, with his own two eyes no less. The proprietor of the inn, Silas, gave the party more nuanced information; three months ago several herders went missing in the hills, one returned saying a great beast swooped down and ate his goats. Silas wasn’t sure how true this was. The party then bought a goat to act as bait for the dragon. 

The party went to the river to cross the ford, finding a warrior named Obelix, who was dressed in a shimmering bronze cuirass and plumed helm. He collected a toll of 2 silver pieces per person to cross the ford. He was impressive in stature, but gave bodacious claims about his virility, claiming to have fathered a thousand bastards around these parts. The party paid with haste and made away, giggling about Obelix’s claims that his member was as long and strong as his spear. 

It was time to ascend the Harrow Hills; a tuft of ever rising scrubland. By the early afternoon the party decided they would make camp. Antifus, the party ranger began searching for a good covered to camp. For a few hours they searched for such a place, eventually finding a cave. The cave was around six foot wide and twelve high. Bones were littered around the mouth; some humanoid, some reptilian. The party searched for tracks and found at least five sets of webbed, bipedal tracks coming and going from the cave. Aetos bravely approached the cave mouth to see if it might be safe, but was stung by a shockingly malignant stench emanating from within. He’d never caught whiff of something so wretched before. The party decided to make away. 

The hills were getting steeper as they proceeded, and soon they were no longer able to ride their horses as the grassy hills gave way to more rocky and unstable terrain. 

For a few hours they tread up the ever blackening stones. Until, during an argument on how they might proceed, the party heard a great roar to the north. In a plume of dust a huge dragon took to the air from atop a massive black hill. Some of the party scrambled to hide, others stood in shock, the horses began to panic. Luckily the dragon did not spot them. It circled once, then rose to the clouds, heading north. 

The party decided this was their moment to rush up and gather the evidence they needed to complete their quest. Sharif remained at the foot of the mound with the horses and goat, the rest of the party ascended the hill as quickly and quietly as they could. 

When they reached the summit they saw a huge pit, almost a shoot, descending into the earth. Next to the pit was a wretched hut made of animal skins. The party searched around the hut, and as they did a voice called out from within. 

“So you’ve come to pay homage to the great lord of chaos.” 

A man emerged, a massive Nord man wearing a horned helmet and jaguar hide. He held aloft a massive battleaxe. The party were shocked, but some quick thinking from Jassan saved them from a fight. He lied, saying they were local herders bringing tribute to the dragon. More quick thinking from Jassan convinced the chaotic brute that they needed some dragon faeces to enact a ritual of dedication to this dragon, which they’d learned was named Xoki. This Nord was named Gunnar the Merciless, dedicated worshipper of the dragon, whose plan was to build a temple here and force the region into chains. 

Gunnar returned from the pit after a long while, during which time the party roasted the goat for him. They ate, and drank, and Gunnar watched as they caked themselves in dragon faeces, booming with laughter. Soon a roar came echoing over the bleak hills as night descended. 

“The lord returns, soon you shall witness his great leathery wings, and his awesome plumes of poison.” 

Cleitus, panicked, cast charm person on Gunnar. The spell worked, and he convinced Gunnar to not tell the dragon he’d ever seen them. The party ran off as quick as they could, but in the dark they only made it a mile or so before stopping, forced to make camp by the poor light. 

In the night a strange man approached the camp and warned Aetos to leave this place. They didn’t take this advice however and camped throughout the night. In the morning they rode downhill towards the jungle and began traversing it on their horses, where they could. 

They had several encounters in the jungle, most of which they managed to avoid. The first was the ruin of an ancient city. The second was a huge tower. The third was a wall of massive clinging lily plants. Finally they came across a massive circle cut out the jungle. The space was around 600 yards wide, and in the centre there was a great rune. Jassan recognised the script to be close to djinn, it might spell trap or prison. He warned the party to keep well away, but then a shimmering light in the circle began entrancing all the characters except Niarchos, the paladin. The mesmerised characters began walking towards the circle, as Niarchos desperately tried to slap his friends free of the spell. He managed to grab and pull a few of his comrades, but it was too little too late. Many of them had already entered the circle. 

A great pillar of flame erupted in the centre of the circle as the entranced walked inside of it. They snapped out of their magical zombification, just in time to witness a massive Efreeti congeal in the flames. It told them its name was Dazmondi, and it had been trapped here by the wizard Callista. It offered a deal, free him by smashing a gem within the wizard’s tower, and he would become their servant for three moon cycles. Jassan, after just giving a lengthy speech on keeping clear from this place, jumped at the opportunity. The deal was struck with a flame upon his chest, which cooled into a sigil-like birthmark. 

The crew then rode to Rubble Diamond to collect their reward. 

Judges note: The party made way through a large number of hexes using their horses. I have marked their route with a red line. The mapping is theirs. Sharif the retainer has levelled to become a thief. The party will now have a little downtime and play by post. 

Also posted at Dragonsfoot

DL Campaign Session 3

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Characters 

  • Malik – Fighter 1 – a Thalazian blade master, with a spiffing helmet decoration. 
  • Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 1 – A Dervish gentleman posing as a trader, known for dark whispers. 
  • Cleitus – Magic-user 1 – a thin young man with a fascination for the moribund.
  • Eos – Assassin 1 – a scrappy killer in the making. 

Retainers 

Antiphus – Niarchos – Oeagnus – Brutus the Wardog

Stood in the catacomb, the party’s lantern light reflected off the wet stonework. Echoing to the east were the footsteps of the roguish Jimis and Clovis. Our heroes had a quick debate; should they send Brutus the hound after them? Should they ignore them? Cleitus finally called out to them, apologising for taking their gold, and asking if they wold like to come back. No reply was forthcoming. 

Well, there were more pressing matters at hand. The PCs stood at a cross junction. To the north was an alcove holding a large statue of Gunther, a horn helmed warrior sporting a fine moustache. Unlike the previous statue they’d encountered, this one appeared to have a mechanical mouth. To the south there was a columned archway, beyond which there were rows of pillars and a dais holding a corpse. To the east, the two rouges waited in the dark. The floor at this intersection was slightly raised, clearly mounted on a plate. 

Just then, a voice called out from behind Jassan, “Looks like you need help with a trap.” A dark roughish figure leant against the wall. Introductions were made, he was Eos, a man with a particular set of skills, and the balls to use them. He had been sent by the mercenary guild of Rubble Diamond to collect the blade of Gunther. Since everyone had the same quest, they all decided to work together. 

“Now let me through, and I shall deal with this statue.” Eos bragged. 

Eos leapt over the plate, and clambered up the statue. With his dagger he prised open the mechanical mouth and saw a large pipe within. The party contemplated stuffing a tent into this pipe, but instead, Eos leapt across the plate again southward, through the archway. 

He found himself in a large vaulted chamber lined with two rows of pillars. Each pillar was carved with a dragon rampant, their eyes a glistening diamond. In the south of the chamber was a corpse on a burial altar. A banded chest was in the south-east. Being a keen thief, Eos approached the chest. He worked the lock with his tools, but alas, he was not nimble enough to liberate it’s contents. 

“The body! Check the body!” His comrades encouraged from beyond the safety of the arch. Eos followed these orders, examining the body of Gunther. White, desiccated skin pulled taught over a skeleton. Around its whitened hair was a golden crown of draconian design. Clasped in its bony fists was a fine great-sword carved with runes.

Jassan threw his staff through the arch with a clatter. “Use this to capture the crown!” Then he ordered his forgetful retainer Oeagnus to cross the plate and stuff a tent into the statues mouth. Unfortunately, as soon as the man stepped on the plate there was a shuddering boom as the mechanism was activated. The statue’s mouth winched open, and a flute of flame engulfed Oeagnus. He fell screaming to the floor, horribly burned, horribly perished. The party looked at each other anxiously. 

Eos threw the staff back through the arch, convinced he didn’t need it. He proceeded towards the corpse of Gunther, torch held aloft, and when he was within distance he began to shout back and forth with his new friends. 

“Grab the sword!” 

“Grab the crown!” 

“Chop off it’s head!” 

“Grab both at the same time and run!” 

“Alright, alright!” Eos shouted. Then he proceeded to ram his torch into the corpses face. Perhaps this was his greatest mistake. The corpse opened it’s wretched eyes, totally unfazed by the flames that licked its face. It grimaced and the room became deathly cold as it rose up. 

“Thou are not worthy of the blade!” A voice resonated from within it’s hollow, desiccated chest. Eos leapt back, keeping the torch and dagger pointed towards the creature. It stood. It’s creaking tendons released dust. It dashed forwards with unexpected speed. It struck Eos across the chest sending an ark of blood against the pillars. Eos tumbled backwards, and crawled towards the door, but the creature slashed him again, this time into silence. 

Jassan peered in from beyond the archway, fumbling in his tunic for a pendant. “Back you fiend!” He cried as he held out the symbol of a chameleon-like mask. 

The undead thing glanced at it with hate. “Evil being, you shall perish!” It began to walk towards the cleric. It would have reached him too, if not for brave Niarchos, who sallied forth, unafraid. 

“Gunther, we have come in dire need. Another dragon haunts these lands. The people have need of your sword.” 

The walking corpse considered him for a moment, and asked for him to come closer. Niarchos did as he was asked. The party waited with baited breath as the Thalazian approached the undead warrior. Gunther took the mans hand, which sent a wave of cold through him, turning part of his hair white. 

Finally, the ghostly Gunther closed its eyes, and said, “Aye, I trust ye. Take the sword and go.”

It thrust the sword into the mans hands and threw him out of the archway.

“Go. Slay the dragon, but return my blade within thirty days. Return it, or I shall come for thee.” 

Gunther returned to his dais and entered torpor. A bandage was applied to Eos. Then the party heartily looted the crypt of it’s gem stones and chest. 

As they were exiting, Jassan peered over his shoulder and saw five mummified maidens drifting towards him. They called out for him to dance with them. Jassan definitely did not want to do that, so he held out his symbol. This made the deathly maidens lurch forward in anger. They came close to him, but the wounded Eos stepped in and bowed to the ladies. 

“I shall dance with you, lovely maidens, I am near death myself.” And a lovely dance it was too. A dance of death. As the women swooshed and swooped around him, he felt an overbearing urge to dance with them forever. Somehow he managed to resist this urge, and completed his hellish waltz. He kissed each of the maiden’s on the back of their leathery hands, and they departed. 

Lead by Malik, the party marched out of the tomb. As they reached the entrance chamber Jimis and Clovis launched an attack. They attempted to stab the Malik in the back, but, being far to lithe, he outmanoeuvred them, and within a few seconds the party pounced on them, slaying them. 

A camp was made atop the tumulus. Overnight, Cleitus had a strange encounter with a man like being wearing a loin cloth. Very rustic. 

Then the party marched back to Rubble Diamond, treasure in tow. They handed over the sword to Hel, cleric of the temple of Arien, and received four gold bars as reward. Then they set about recovering from their wounds and spending some of their hard earned treasure. 

Judges note: the surviving retainers have now levelled up to Fighters. A week of downtime will be had in Rubble Diamond. Cleitus will use the time to create a spell scroll. 

also posted at Dragonsfoot.

DL Campaign Session 2

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Characters 

  • Malik – Fighter 1 – a Thalazian blade master, with a spiffing helmet decoration. 
  • Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 1 – A Dervish gentleman posing as a trader, known for dark whispers. 

Introduced later: 

  • Cleitus – Magic-user 1 – a thin young man with a fascination for the moribund.

Retainers 

Antiphus – Niarchos – Melanthios – Oeagnus – Brutus the Wardog 

When we last left off, the PCs had just routed the strange crimson-skinned beastmen of the jungle. At the beginning of the session our hero discovered they hadn’t packed enough rations. A serious discussion took place about whether a journey back to town should be made. They agreed that they would continue onwards and try to gather some food. They only found a few measly berries on their march however, much to their chagrin.  

By the late afternoon they had walked many miles. Several acres of vineyard became visible in the distance. A  wooden trellis was ripe with thick vines, and several figures in togas walked amongst the fields, carrying baskets at the hip. A child ran around, which surely indicated the safety of this farm. In the center of the acreage was a domed marble building, twenty or so feet tall, columned and open to the air. The party approached one of the workers, hailing them and asking if they sold rations. 

This figure was a woman named Versuvia, a woman with severe features who told them she was enslaved to the master of this field; the cruel Pralan. She had nothing to sell because she owned nothing. She wore manacles and many scars, her face, tired and withdrawn. She threw them her bushel of grapes, saying she did not care if they stole from her master. The party took these and enquired about this Pralan the cruel. The reply sent shivers down the players’ spines, for Pralan is a Cyclops of giant stature. He sells his wine to the villas of the land. Be wary of his games, Vesuvia told them, for Pralan is as cunning as he is cruel.

The party desired to vacate this area immediately. 

As they walked away, the child they had spied earlier ran over to them and asked if they were going to save her from this awful place. Vesuvia placed a hand upon the child’s shoulder, and told her that these were no heroes. The party marched east so long as there was light. As they set up their camp they saw a tall gorge to the south-east, and high atop its cliffs, something shimmered in the fading light. Perhaps this was the tomb they sought.

The party made their tents and set up a series of watches. Rain lashed heavily on their heads. The fires of Pralan’s camp in the distance glistened like cat eyes. In the morning, they gathered their camp and marched towards the gorge. 

As they grew within five hundred yards of the cliffs, they could see that the glistening light on the cliff wall was coming from a ledge holding a large nest. In the distance they saw a bedraggled man running toward them, he wore leather armour and carried a sack, he was running as fast as his legs could carry him, and kept peering back over his shoulder. Apparently he hadn’t seen the party, so they lay in wait for him behind some trees. When he came into distance the party leap upon him, holding him down as he writhed like a gator in a net. 

“Please, please, let me go.” He begged. His sack contained sixty electrum pieces, which were quickly pilfered. The party intimidated this man, whose name was Octavius. He told them that there was a great treasure in a saddlebag up in the nest, with much of its coinage having scattered down among the many horse carcasses. He begged to be let go, for the sake of his children, but his request was declined. Malik took Octavius’ family sword, drove it into the ground with his hammer, then hog tied Octavius to it. The poor man was to be ‘bait’ for whatever creature nested upon the cliff. Then the PCs proceeded towards the gorge. 

They moved very carefully, very slowly. Once they were close they saw a horse carcass dangling from the edge of the nest, its saddlebags filled with treasure which shimmered in the morning light. The nest was full of man sized figures, chirping furiously. At the base of the cliff there were horse skeletons, and many, many coins. Being quick-footed, the party scrambled for coins, stuffing them into sacks, whilst Malik kept watch. In all, they gathered up three hundred and twenty electrum pieces in twenty minutes. Then Malik heard the booming blows of wings echoing through the chasm. 

“Run!” 

As they did, a huge griffon came swooping over the gorge, its deathly screech close at the party’s nape. 

“There, a crevasse! Into the hole, lads!” The party charged towards the crag, but poor Melanthios was sundered by the claws of that powerful, winged beast. His shrill screams were all that the party heard as they dashed into the crack in the cliff face. There, they waited, hour upon hour, in quaking fear, while the griffon devoured poor Octavius. Finally, the velvet quilt of nightfall shrouded with cover. With two waxing moons high overhead, and a tent worn as a hood, the party crawled away. 

A few miles from the gorge the party ran into an unlikely fellow; Cleitus and his hound Brutus. A Wizard from the west. Introductions were made and they decided they would journey together, towards the tomb of Gunther Wyrmslayer. Tally ho!

After a little march, the party could see a wood, and at the center of this woodland was the dreary crest of a tumulus. Jackpot! So off they went to find a camping spot. 

During the night however, Malik was surprised by a figure who approached the camp. He was tall and dark, with long hair and beard, dressed in a fine white robe. This strange man talked of a temple being established to the east. The temple worships Traz’gozan; a god of flesh and blood, who walks amongst mortals. A place where there would be no need for armour, weapon, or coin, for there would be only pleasure. A place where one could bask amongst beautiful women and make love to the daughters of kings. In the periphery of the camp, Malik saw at least six figures in white robes, wearing black masks. He nodded and agreed that this place sounded marvelous. He woke his companions who also nodded along to the proselytising madman. They gave him some alms and he left in search of would-be believers. Jassan the cleric had never heard of this god Traz’gozan, but noted the pronunciation sounded Infernal. 

“Let us never go east.” 

In the morning, the party marched towards the tumulus, avoiding a large area covered with thick web. The tumulus had no life growing on it at all. In its center was an open doorway. 

They found the tomb’s stone door cracked open. On the ground, a beastman lay face-down in the mud, dead.

The party formed a marching order of (F-B):  Malik + Antifus | Niarchos with lantern | Cleitus + Jassan + Brutus | Oeagnus. 

Down thirty feet of steep steps, there was a square chamber with four pillars in the center. Each pillar had a carving of Gunther Wyrmslayer, his eyes containing lush rubies. There were doorways north, east, and west. Cleitus tested the gemstones with his mirror, finding that they frosted over the glass. The party wouldn’t be touching any of those. Dirty footprints diverged east and west. 

The gang moved east first. To their surprise, they saw a stone chamber with five mummified maidens dancing and swirling in a circle. Although they danced heartily, neither their bodies nor their flowing dresses made even a faint sound. The mummified maidens paid them no heed, and the party quickly moved backwards. 

Next, they went west, found a locked door, and then a chamber with a large marble statue of a sage-like figure. The statue was facing a sarcophagus. Malik and a retainer opened it, and saw within a pale, sunken figure with a radiant gold necklace atop its rotting toga. Jassan moved to the lip of the casket and poured oil all over this corpse. The monster opened its glowing eyes and almost rendedt out his heart with two lightning fast slashes from its razor sharp claws. Malik tried to slam the shaft of his shovel into the creature’s breast, but it caught the blow and laughed mockingly. Niarchos threw a burning torch onto the beast, and it went up in a pillar of flame. Cleitus wrapped Jassan’s wound with a bandage, but he was severely hurt. It would take him days to recover. Malik placed the gold chain around the cleric’s neck as a form of encouragement. 

The party then went into another eastern corridor, and saw a large statue of Gunther. As they proceeded, a plate in the floor was activated, and the statue lunged forward, slashing at Oeagnus with a giant copper blade. It missed by an inch. 

Next, the party moved north. Following the boot tracks they entered a set of double doors. An axe-trap swung down, almost slicing into Malik. Inside, there were two filthy men, napping in their bedrolls. Cleitus talked to them with his beastly dog tight on its chain. He stole their coin, then informed them that they now had the privilege of working for him. 

South it was then, through another set of double-doors where a barren chamber had only a skeleton upon the floor. It pointed ominously towards the doorway. 

Then the party went north, and saw a large pillared tomb, with another statue of Gunther before the entrance. This statue looked different, and after a little inspection it was noted that it had a mechanical mouth. The two dirty thieves used this moment to dash away into the darkness. 

The party remained, pondering whether to chase the two ruffians or enter the pillared archway; for beyond the pillars, high atop a dias, wreathed in a cowl, lay the corpse of Gunter Wyrmslayer, a shining sword upon his breast. 

What will they do next time?

Player’s maps below, including Malik’s dungeon map: 

Malik’s Dungeon Map

DL Campaign Session 1

/ Dread Lord / Leave a comment

During our first session the players and I talked through the feel of the campaign, its assumptions, and some of the better known cities on the map; those that their characters would have heard of. Then they rolled up their characters and decided that they would be travelling into the hinterlands, looking for potential markets to exploit for trade. The players developed an intentionally vague goal of reaching Castle Tokova, a citadel of great antiquity currently governed by a powerful barbarian warrior, Lord Sabe. 

Here are the current characters. (there will be more forthcoming): 

  • Malik – Fighter 1 – a Thalazian blade master. 
  • Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 1 – A dervish gentleman posing as a trader. 

Retainers 

Antiphus – Niarchos – Aegon – Melanthios – Oeagnus

The party arrived in hex 074.152 : The eagle coast. They came by ship and made land at a small village named Mitraq. They soon discovered this small fishing village had a partially constructed castle that had been abandoned; its owner had left to fight a hoard of minotaurs to the north, and never returned. They spent an evening at the tavern, the Merry Grape, looking for job prospects and rumours. 

They received several hooks that evening. A local militia man offered to pay them fifty gold pieces from the village treasury to investigate the old barbarian burial mound a few miles outside of town. A strange woman had been seen lurking there and threatening some local goat herders. They also learned that a troupe of bandits had been lingering in a small jungle to the East and had been preying on travellers, capturing many wagons of coin and goods. Finally, they received an offer to guard the caravan of a Dervish merchant Haroon Pasha. He was new to the area, and wanted to travel twenty miles south east to trade with a settlement known as Rubble Diamond. Haroon pay one gold piece a mile for the Party’s protection.

The party decided to take the latter option. They rested at the inn, and set off at first light. They travelled south east and soon passed the crags that held the barbarian burial ground. They could see several cave openings, and all around the area were pikes threaded with ancient skulls. 

They kept moving through the grasslands and four hours later noticed a series of camp fires some miles away to the south, the source obscured by a small woodland. The party decided to ignore this, anxious about the bandits and minotaurs they’d heard about. They carried on, and at nightfall camped around the wagon. 

The next day they continued their journey south east. After the mornings jaunt, the village of Rubble Diamond could be seen in the distance, nestled close to jungle. Jassan noticed something in the distance,  a troupe of heavy horsemen three hundred yards away. The horsemen blew a horn and approached with speed. The party drew their weapons, but the leader of this powerful cavalry unit roared at them to stand down. They were in the lands of ‘Gracious Lord Blanbot.’ Jassan made a good impression with these horsemen, sweet-talking them, and soon learned that they formed the calvary of a local lord who had recently built a magnificent villa in the area, a villa ‘to civilise these barbarian wilds.’ The party were allowed to make their way towards Rubble Diamond, with advice to spend their coin freely, for much of it would return to their lord by way of tax. 

By nightfall the party had arrived at their destination. Their merchant friend moved to unload his cargo and paid them. The party settled in the local inn for drinks and a spot of rumour gathering. 

They learned that Rubble Diamond had a famous glass factory, and also a mercenary guild, which doubled as a temple to Arien, God of War. Whilst drinking with rambunctious mercenaries they learned that Blanbot had come to the area to form a Barony for the city state of Acron Gil Dul. The locals resented this as they had always looked after themselves. They heard that a powerful wizard named Callista, who dwelled in the jungle, was also displeased with the arrival of Blanbot, and had been gathering hosts of red beastmen to him. They heard that several caravan guards had been found skinned and crucified on the outskirts of the Red Jungle. War was brewing. Rumours pointed to a Wyrm being seen in the Harrow Hills to the south. It was this last rumour that led them to a chance meeting with Hel, a grizzled, eye-patch wearing cleric of Arien. Hel gave them a quest to visit the tomb of famed warrior Gunther Wyrmslayer, and to collect his magic sword and return it to the temple. For this, he would pay handsomely. The party agreed, and so after a good nights sleep they set out towards the east. 

By midday they came close to the Red Jungles periphery, a stinking drapery of rotting vines and alien bird calls. Avoiding the jungle the PCs moved around it, eastwards. Whilst walking the grasslands they were caught totally unaware by a band of strange red-skinned beastmen. These creatures darted from behind some trees and encircled them, they were riding strange bipedal reptiles with large flat heads, and huge maws. The riders wore scale mail, but were only around four feet tall. They had red skin, squat heads, and strange tendrils that drooped from their cheeks that resembled fleshy moustaches. 

The creatures yelled at the party in a language they didn’t understand. Finally, they called out in a more guttural language that Jassan did understand. They told him, in an uncouth manner, to drop his arms and surrender or be flayed. 

“Drop weapons so they can flay us and crucify us, I don’t think so.” Malik quipped. 

The party readied blades, but these strange creatures seemed nervous to attack, they squinted and flinched from the suns rays. Their leader, trying to bolster his troops, finally charged the party line. His spear darted forward, but found no purchase. His mount had better luck however, and bit deeply into Malik’s head! The warrior was touched by lady luck, his head was saved by his helmet. The party sliced into this creature, and Aegon cleaved off its head with his battle axe. The rider fell from the saddle and broke his neck on the hard dirt. The other red-skinned beastmen turned and fled, with Aegon chasing after them and arrows loosed into their rumps. Have at you! 

The party had routed the enemy. Malik hacked off the dead beastman’s head, and mounted it atop the large spiked helm that had saved his life. 

Onward to the tomb of Gunther Wyrmslayer! 

The party’s Map:

Also posted at dragons foot.

House Rules for OSE

/ Dread Lord / Leave a comment

With my Xyntillan Campaign coming to a close I’ve been working on some B/X house rules and a campaign world.

I’ve decided to try and take B/X closer to the Sword & Sorcery pulp fiction that I love, dropping most of the Tolkienesque influences. That means the addition of some abilities for fighters. I’ve also gone against sagely advice and made a large map with 24 mile hexes, though no detailed sub-hexes; those will be discovered through play.

The document is pretty self indulgent, but it was a lot of fun to write. It will be added to and modified over the next couple of years as the game progresses.

💀 ⚔️ 🤘Game on 🤘 ⚔️ 💀

dreadlord-campaign-house-rules-v1.0Download