Campaign journals, reviews of TTRPG stuff, and musings on D&D.
A zine chronicling the Conquering the Barbarian Altanis D&D campaign.
This issue details sessions 72, and 73. Adventurers deal with the Red Dragon and desecrated temple. Results vary.
You can download the issue here.
Overlord's Annals zine is available in print as part of the legendary Alarums & Excursions APA, issue 592:
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I will be hosting two original Dungeons & Dragons games (little brown booklets only) at Precognition. Both games will be delves into the legendary Darkness Beneath megadungeon published in the finest OSR zine Fight On:
Precognition is an independently-organized virtual tabletop roleplaying convention taking place March 14th–16th:
Welcome to Precognition, your portal to an entire weekend of online tabletop roleplaying. From March 14th–16th, we’re bringing gamers together from around the world to explore a broad range of roleplaying games—from classic fantasy settings to cutting-edge sci-fi worlds. Whether you’re seeking new adventures or just looking to connect with fellow enthusiasts, we invite you to roll dice, share stories, and forge friendships in our virtual halls.
Passes (i.e. tickets) are available via Kickstarter:
Once the Kickstarter is over, convention organisers will open up the site for backers to sign-up for games. Full list of hosted games is available here.
See you there?
#Convention #Precognition #FightOn #OSR
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Tamren | Cleric level 3 | Stoic paladin of Coriptis, the Goddess of Battle and Inamorata of Berserkers. Aventail hides all but his two piercing blue eyes. |
| Balarus | Fighter level 4 | An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow. |
| Bragi Twinefinger | Halfling level 1 | A stout strong halfling. As a devotee of the Great Tailor he is always smartly dressed (under his armour) and overly fond of multiple breakfasts. |
| Ambros | Cleric level 6 | Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time. |
| Ignaeus | Elf level 4 | A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge. |
“Follow me, follow me!” One-Eyed Tulen, excitedly motioned at the party. Terribly deformed Altanian tracker—courtesy of brutal torture he suffered at Graylock's hands—had found hyena's lair.
A hilly mound surrounded by large trees shrouded a wide cave opening. But following the trail of the large lioness revealed a much narrower tunnel leading upwards.
Balarus, still too weak to move on his own, remained outside of the lair. Beorg and Tarkus stayed behind to protect him. Tamren, joined by Bragi Twinefinger, a stout strong halfling, found the party through divine guidance.
“Ambros, remember what you promised me!” Tulen slurred.
“I am the Law. But in this case I will allow you to be the executor of the Law!”
And with those words, Ambros led the party through the narrow tunnel. After a short incline, the adventurers entered into a small, some twenty feet wide cave. An extinguished fire-pit was in the center, two soiled blankets to the east, and several gnawed bones to the west. And nothing else.
Thoroughly searching the cave revealed pits on the north wall. Ignaeus used them as handholds and footholds to climb upwards. Once he hit the ceiling he discovered that part of it was hollow—a thin sheet of rock had been placed to conceal an opening.
Ignaeus quietly slid it to the side and then climbed up. That led him into another tunnel, albeit a short one. After just a few steps he came to a ledge overlooking another cave, similar in size to the previous one.
Except this cave was filled with crates and barrels. Pit-handholds allowed him to descend safely. Others followed him. Bragi remained above, on the ledge, providing light with his lantern.
Ambros motioned to the right, where narrow tunnel slopped upwards. Ignaeus followed him closely, and Tamren took the rear guard. Cleric of Law took confident, but careful, steps forward.
His mindful approach paid off!
As he approached another the tunnel exit, Ambros felt something is off. He raised his shield just in time to deflect a battleaxe swing. Large gnoll towered over the cleric, growling. It was dressed in chain-shirt, and wielded large two-handed battleaxe.
The monster seized a perfect spot to fight. The tunnel was too narrow to allow those behind to join the fray. Maintaining its momentum, the gnoll swung once more, striking the cleric true.
“Freeze!” whilst Ambros grunted, Ignaeus lifted Volmorin's Blade and yelled the command word.
Graylock froze solid in place, his eyes filled with burning rage.
“Bragi. Go fetch Tulen.”
While waiting for the one-eyed hunchback, Tamren and Ignaeus inspected all the crates and barrels. There they discovered enough dried meat, fruits, and nuts to account for 60 days worth of iron rations. They also found eight bottles and four pins of Midway Red, famous regional wine.
Ambros cast another Hold Person at the gnoll, just in case. Then he cast Detect Magic. His eyes increased ten-fold as Graylock was completely bathed in purplish glow: his armour, battleaxe, handaxe by the hip, and one of the rings pulsated with dim light.
Further, arrows in the quiver by south wall also lit up, as did something in one of the smaller chests.
“You bastard... You bastard!” Tulen wobbled towards the gnoll, knife at ready. Ambros gave him a nod, and tracker enacted his revenge. He took his time—a little bit over half an hour—to carve the monster up. Once the bloody ordeal had been done, the party ransacked all the caves recovering thousand gold pieces, two hundred and fifty platinum pieces, one long bow, two quivers with arrows, one quiver with fourteen magical arrows, three vials of puss-like substance, and all equipment from Graylock.
“Wait... What is this?”
They also found terribly cut and blood-soaked piece of parchment on Graylock. Nothing but “Kyle” was readable.
“I told you there is some fuckery going on here.” Tamren was heard muttering from behind. Lord Kyle governs Midway—home of the famous wine.
But most importantly of all, Ambros could for the first time in many months breath normally. He felt a heavy burden fall off his shoulders.
Adventurers spent their whole next day packing all the goods and treasure, as well as planning their route back. They were to go to Ketche, meet up with sailors who brought them here, and then sail back to Hara.
It took the adventurers nearly a month to return to Ketche. Although arduous, their journey was otherwise devoid of any significant danger or threat. They were warmly welcomed and Beklomda Mor threw another feast in their honour.
Some woke up with a splitting headache next day. Part of the headache was surely the fact that their sailors were long gone. But how could one blame them? It has been over two months since they set off in the jungle to hunt down a notorious gnoll assassin.
Tamren bartered with fishermen, arranging transport in exchange of two bottles and two pins of Midway Red. Not a bad deal considering everything.
Before leaving, Ambros threw Graylock's head into the sea, saying prayers to Poseidon, Aniu, and Forseti. With his divine debt finally repaid, the party left for Hara.
“Look! It is Ambros! We were worried you perished in that forsaken place!” guards were delighted to see the cleric alive.
“And I am happy to return. Pray tell, what is latest in Hara?”
Adventurers learned that new castellan was hard at work, cracking down on many issues plaguing the city. She prohibited carrying weapons and armours in city—everyone must tie them in a tight bundle and carry them like a haversack. Namelin and his thugs are not too happy about that.
Coldrain brings winter. Altanis is still warm, but days are shorter. New Year is coming soon. What will the adventurers do next?
Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.
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Fight On! issue 16 now available on DTRPG and Lulu (POD and PDF):
Out of the dungeon and into your quivering palms, Fight On! is back again, bringing the full monty of magic and mayhem to your subterranean halls! FOUR big adventures along with classes, races, maps, rules variants, new worlds, monsters, magic items, spells, NPCs, and tables and other goodies galore will fill your fantasy campaigns with new wonders for your dark towers and demonweb pits! Dedicated to fantasy art legend David A. Trampier, this issue features contributions from great heroes old and new – from Dave Hargrave and Tim Kask to Peter Mullen and Cameron Hawkey, not to mention Sean ''Stonegiant'' Stone, Oakes Spalding, Simon Bull, Gabor Lux, Kevin Mayle, Evlyn Moreau, Calithena, Paul Carrick, Sophie Pulkus, J. Blasso-Gieseke, bät, Attronarch, Philipp H., James Maliszewski, Settembrini, Robert S. Conley, Idle Doodler, DeWayne Rogers, Rick Base, Dyson Logos, Jon Salway, Becami Cusack, Tony A. Rowe, Prince of Nothing, Jasmine Collins, Anthony Stiller, Allan T. Grohe Jr., Will Mistretta, Steve Queen, Zhu Baijee, Thomas Denmark, and many, many more! This BIG 128 page issue picks off pit fiends like a +5 pike of piercing – don't delve deeper into the darkling depths without it!
Here is the table of contents:
| Article | Author(s) | Page |
|---|---|---|
| Creepies & Crawlies | Zisch, Knarly, Mistretta, & Settembrini | 3 |
| Artifacts, Adjuncts & Oddments | Salway, bät & DeSmet | 7 |
| Two Blades and Two Crowns | David A. Hargrave | 10 |
| Gems of Zylarthen, Part 1 | Oakes Spalding | 13 |
| Grognard’s Grimoire | bät, Salway, & Mustonen | 17 |
| The Caverns of Arcane Silk | Idle Doodler | 19 |
| The Sands of Isathar | DangerIsReal | 20 |
| 21 Lessons Learned After 100 Sessions | Attronarch | 22 |
| Battleland Encounters | Calithena | 24 |
| Variant Battlelands for Titan | Tor Gjerde | 25 |
| Old Samora 2: Ghoul Lair and Balneum | Philipp H. | 29 |
| The Wretched of the Earth | Richard Rittenhouse | 39 |
| The Scout | Jason Brentlinger | 40 |
| Biblical Fantasy Roleplaying | Haralambos Kazantzakis | 42 |
| Races of sha-Arthan | James Maliszewski | 44 |
| The Monastery of Darak | Gabor Lux | 47 |
| Tables for Fables | DeSmet, Logos, Terrible Sorcery & Kisko | 53 |
| Dun Crawlin’ | Jon Salway | 59 |
| Alternative Demon Immunities | PrinceofNothing | 70 |
| 1d20 Magick-er Mouths | Will Mistretta | 72 |
| The Dream Couches | Donald Smith with Zherbus | 76 |
| Calabos and Mazmora | J. Blasso-Gieseke | 80 |
| Darkness Beneath: The Snow Throne | Simon Bull | 81 |
| Tales of Tramp and TSR | Tim Kask, interviewed by Cal | 92 |
| Knights & Knaves: Wormy & Friends | Allan Grohe | 99 |
| Seven Gates & Fifty Dog-Faced Men | Becami Cusack | 105 |
| Comics & Carrick | Kelvin Green, J. Blasso-Gieseke, and Paul Carrick | 126 |
128 pages of awesome!
Back issues are available via DTRPG and Lulu.
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Another great sale I stumbled upon, this time by Frog God Games / Necromancer Games. They are celebrating 25 years so every month few books go on sale. This month The Lost City of Barakus (d20 and Swords & Wizardry) is 75% off and Heart of St. Bathus (OSE) is 60% off. Both are by W.D.B. Kenower who is one of my favourite authors. The Lost City of Barakus is a great module that has everything you need for a campaign. Heart of St. Bathus I haven't had the chance to run yet, but it is a gem that needs polishing since FGG dropped the ball on editing, laying it out, and presenting the information in acessible manner.
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Advanced Adventures OSRIC (AD&D 1e retroclone) line by the Expeditious Retreat Press is on sale for 50% off until end of February. At the moment it counts 46 modules. Here are some of my favourites that I am happy to recommend (sorted by level range instead of module code):
Modules have nothing to do with each other (except few exceptions like Shadowvein and White Dragon Run), and they are easy to integrate in any sandbox game. Page counts are small, text is dense, maps are play-oriented. Just how I like it.
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Balarus | Fighter level 4 | An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow. |
| Tarkus the Promising | Cleric level 4 | Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom. |
| Beorg the Gravedigger | Fighter level 3 | Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers. |
| Ambros | Cleric level 6 | Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time. |
| Ignaeus | Elf level 4 | A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge. |
| Guin Pin | Magic-User level 3 | A young, short man with buzz-cut, black hair, dressed in a tuxedo black and white robe. He walks with a limp, which makes him wobble. |
“Our city has been blessed by the Gods!”
Town criers of Hara worked overtime to break the news.
“Ambros Ap Mortain is our new High Priest of Forseti!”
Crowds cheered with delight, with the exception of few sour faces that squirm at doing things fairly.
“Ambros Ap Mortain is our new Justice Supreme of Hara!”
But Ambros had little reason to cheer.
Every night the same nightmare.
At the bottom of a deep well.
Blinded by the sun above.
Unable to move.
Whilst water slowly fills the well.
Every night.
Every single night.
Ambros had little time before the wrath of Poseidon befalls him.
And anyone with him.
“Are you threatening us, ugly grandpa?!”
Largest of five drunk Altanians chucked stool aside, jumping up with his whole bulk.
Balarus poised himself, ready to swing the obsidian blade at the first person who dares raise hand against Ambros. Tarkus and Beorg were ready at the table.
Few days ago Ambros hired an experienced crew of marines to take them to Ketche. They were intercepted by pirates en route, but Tarkus the Witty managed to resolve that without any violence whatsoever.
Unfortunately, Ambros failed to negotiate a tracker with Beklomda Mor, the chieftain. She asked Ambros to remain in the village, which he refused due to his obligations in the “civilisation,” which Beklomda had no interest in.
So he and party set out to get everyone drunk at the Goat's Beard inn, hoping to find learn anything they can about gnoll assassin Greylock. Ambros had to slay him in order to complete the geas he had accepted in return for Mavis, High Priestess of Poseidon, raising Hagar from the dead.
Locals found his plea very amusing. Until Ambros raised his voice.
“I am the Law!”
Seeing that fist fight is imminent, Ignaeus raised his scimitar and yelled “Freeze!”
Big Altanian froze in place. Everyone else suddenly begun paying more attention.
“Listen! Only One-Eyed Tulen would be dumb enough to help you! You can find his hut three hundred yards south of here.”
“Thank you.” Ambros and his retinue left, seeking the man recommended to them.
Ketche is a small coastal village secluded in the Eyestones jungle, surrounded by danger in all directions. Nonetheless, finding Tulen's hovel hadn't proven to be an issue. Speaking with the man without retching, on the other hand, had proven to be much bigger issue.
True to his name, One-Eyed Tulen lacked left eye. He was badly crooked, his arms bent and deformed, his legs bowing outward, half of teeth missing, and those present yellowed with rot. He reeked of offal.
“I will help you find Greylock if you give me the pleasure of driving a dagger into his evil heart!” Tulen mumbled slowly.
“I am the Law. It is customary that I enact and execute justice. But in this case I will make an exception. I will allow you to deliver the killing blow.” Ambros declared.
At that Tulen fell down on his knees, weeping tears of anger and joy. From his right eye that is. A mix of pus and tear seeped out of his left eye socket.
“Let's not make him cry again.” Tarkus whispered.
“So, how do we hunt down this gnoll?”
“We will follow the coastline until we reach the southern most point. Then we will make our way deeper into the jungle. Greylock has a pack of hyenas and a large lioness. If we encounter either of those, we can track them back to his lair.”
“Let's set out then.”
“Master Ambros, night is about to fall. I suggest leaving after sun rises again! You can sleep here with me.”
“No, thank you. We will meet you here in the morning.”
The party booked all of Goat's Beard inn for the night. Everyone slept well. Everyone but Ambros. Water reached his waist.
“Aaaghhh! Here! Here!”
Tulen cried in anger pointing at an ominously looking tree.
“What? What is it?” adventurers surrounded him, alarmed. They've spent last ten days following his lead. Out of those, three had been spent searching in deep jungle.
“This is where he crucified me! This is where he broke my bones! This is where they feasted on me!”
It took Ambros significant effort to calm Tulen down. Following brief discussion, the party had decided to hunt down some game, pile the corpses, and then wait in ambush hoping that hyenas or Greylock take the bait.
“Aaaaaa!”
Guin Pin fled wobbling as giant shrew chased him. Beorg also broke down, fleeing for his life. After all, dead will not bury themselves!
Balarus, Ambros, Tarkus, and Ignaeus squared off against seven fierce giant shrews. Balarus got bitten thrice, but that was nothing for the mighty warrior. Shrews fought until the bitter end, but ultimately they were no match for the heavily armed and armoured adventurers.
Oversized rodents were collected and dumped into one pile. A campfire was lit next to them. Adventurers spread out in 120 feet radius, bows and slings at the ready.
The wait was on.
Ambros stretched as much as he could. No matter how hard he tried, he could not lift feet off the ground. The water was all the way up to jaw. He tilted his head all the way back, so he could breathe.
Branch cracking under hyena's paw snapped him back. He dozed off during the ambush they have prepared. No one took a shot yet. Everyone waited.
The hyena carefully approached the shrew pile. Seeing there is no danger, it took a bite of one, and then jumped back. Confirming that there is indeed no danger, five hyenas stepped into the light, and begun munching on the dead rodents.
Adventurers acted in unison, releasing arrows and slinging stones. All five hyenas were killed in less than thirty seconds.
The party waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Guin Pin did not hear he.
But he surely felt her.
Massive lioness dropped on him from above, ripping him to shreds.
Beorg charged the lioness with his polearm, missing terribly. Ambros, Balarus, and Ignaeus joined the fray as well. Tarkus circled the melee, and pulled Guin Pin from underneath the large cat.
“Oh nooo, I was julienned!” the magic-user cried as Tarkus brought him back to life.
Lioness dished out pain in generous servings. She clawed left and right, pouncing and pounding. But it was here bite that severed Balarus in half, leaving him dead on the spot. Ambros was severely injured too. Others were not unscathed either. Magic-User decided glory is better than death, and he threw himself at the beast armed with nothing but dagger and large cojones.
The battle was brutal, bloody, and desperate. Adventurers missed more often than not. And even when their blows connected, they rarely did significant damage. But through sheer persistence and attrition, they managed to whittle the beast down.
When giant lioness turned to flee Beorg seized the opportunity. He hooked her with his halberd, and jerked her back. As Ignaeus slit her throat with his scimitar, Beorg jammed the halberd straight into the gaping wound, skewering the monster.
It was over.
They were victorious.
But there was no time to celebrate.
Clerics healed as many wounds as they could.
Then they resumed their positions.
What they came for still hasn't appeared.
Thus, they waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until the sun rose.
But Greylock hadn't come.
Exhausted and battered, they dragged Balarus's corpse with them, and camped at the safest spot they could find. Perhaps gods smiled on them. Perhaps, but Ambros knew better.
Balarus opened his eyes.
He laid on soft grass, branches poking his soft flesh.
Ambros was kneeling next to him, obviously exhausted.
“Wow...” the warrior muttered, whilst tapping himself in disbelief.
Although in horrible pain and terribly weak, he was truly alive.
“Oh, do we need to return him his items now?” one of the adventurers, best left unnamed, inquired.
Ambros pulled a miracle to bring his fellow adventurer back to life.
But will he be able to save his own life?
Or will next Waterday spell his doom?
Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.
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Kingdom of Kanday and Kingdom of Chybisa:
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Balarus | Fighter level 3 | An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow. |
| Ignar Erikson | Fighter level 3 | Strong, tall, broad warrior with piercing blue eyes and a fashionable winged helm. |
| Tarkus the Promising | Cleric level 4 | Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom. |
| Beorg the Gravedigger | Fighter level 3 | Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers. |
| Ambros | Cleric level 6 | Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time. |
| Ignaeus | Elf level 4 | A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge. |
“Oh, here it is!”
Tarkus and Beorg led the adventurers back to the crypt south-east of Midway. Their stop at the village just a day ago was very short-lived, for they were not welcome at all. But that did not bother our heroes that much, since they only had one thing on their mind: dungeon delving.
Well, two things actually. Safe dungeon delving. Hence they opted to revisit a dungeon they've been to nearly a year ago, where they smashed everything open, crossed the trapped hallway, navigated the maze, liberated the wrongfully imprisoned king, and extracted their hard earned coin.
Perhaps there was something they had missed?
Rappelling down the pit revealed nothing much had changed. The stone slab was still pushed inwards, allowing anyone to enter and leave the crypt as they desire. Adventurers opted to avoid the chamber with laughing skulls and cleaving meathooks.
They explored the left wing of long mausoleum, which led them to a large circular chamber completely filled with skeletal remains of hundreds, if not thousands, creatures. Bone pile towered eight feet tall, and filled the full circumference of the chamber.
Without anything better to do, adventurers decide to clean up this mess by moving it from this chamber to another chamber. Couple of hours later and they found a hidden trapdoor with a chest. One thousand and five hundred gold pieces, as well as five nice gems, were their reward. Wise beyond their age, they closed the trapdoor so they are not slowed down as they explore the dungeon.
Next, they followed narrow exit out of the mausoleum with hundreds of crypts into the square chamber with obviously chaotic temple. Giving it a wide berth they walked down a long corridor slopping downwards. With each step they got deeper and deeper into purple fog.
“Wait! Allow me to move first and sweep the floor! Last time we were here we were attacked by blobs of burning flesh!” Beorg cautioned his friends and did what he said he would do.
Nothing assaulted them.
The mist was emanating from onyx black stone gates just at the end of the corridor. Purple haze seeped out from underneath and various barely visible orifices. To the adventurers' left were the steps leading into the trapped hallway, while to their right were large gates of pure white marble. Purple fog bounced off of an invisible barrier just in front of the white gates.
“Interesting...”
Balarus and Ignar, two mighty warriors, had to give it their all to barely open the gates. What a sight greeted them!
A square chamber, with walls, ceiling, and floor all made out of white marble. Facing them, in a semi-circle, were nine pedestals, all illuminated by a source-less spotlight. Upon central pedestal, which was broader and taller than the rest, a golden gavel inlaid with precious stone bands, rested.
Following several turns of careful inspection, one of the adventurers dare to approach the gavel. It was Ambros, Elder of Aniu. First he hovered his palm over the gavel. Others noticed how Ambros zoned out for a bit, lagging in his replies to their inquiries. Then everyone saw the cleric reach for the gavel.
Ambros's eyes turned upside-down, his fist clenched around the gavel, and he slumped to the ground, frothing from his mouth and trashing about. Without missing a beat all the adventurers jumped on him, grabbing him by the legs and arms so he doesn't hurt himself. Beorg tried to pry the gavel out of his hand with the dagger, but failed miserably.
How surprised Ambros was when he opened his eyes! Pinned down by his own colleagues and allies! He shook himself free and rolled to the side. Tarkus and Balarus addressed him in Lawful, asking him if he was well. Of course he was! The Ignar asked him if he could let go of the gavel. Of course he could! Would he? Of course he would! And Ambros put the gavel in his backpack.
“What god do you pray to?” Ignar continued his line of inquiry. Ambros gave a passionate sermon on timelessness of Aniu. Tarkus, vicar of Bachontoi, confirmed that this was indeed a prayer to Aniu and was as legitimate as far as he could tell.
“All is good then, I guess...” for rest of the expedition Ignar kept a close eye on Ambros.
As Ambros stepped out, and walked towards the purple fog it gave way as if some invisible force-field was around the cleric. With these interesting turn of events, the party decided to attempt the onyx gates.
Balarus and Ignar heaved as they tried again and again and again. They regretted their success as soon as it came. The duo pushed the black gates open, smashing them against the chamber walls. Before them was a whirlpool of raging purple mist flowing towards the central hole.
A horde of figures in various stages of decomposition were continuously trying to climb out of the hole. They pushed and pushed at the thick purple goo covering them, but were unable to cut through it. Moreover, the figures would frequently turn on each other, pulling the one on the top downwards.
The chamber was circular, with no visible ceiling. Purple fog rolled down the walls, joining the whirlpool. Most of it was sucked into the oozy portal, while the rest was fanned out into the corridor. An ancient leather canoe with a single paddle rested on the other side of the chamber, directly opposite from the entrance. Numerous runes and symbols covered its sides.
“Ambros, this might be your calling!” Ignar encouraged the cleric.
Indeed, Ambros was the sole adventurer who dared enter this accursed chamber. As before, the mist evaporated in his presence. Upon coming closer to the bottomless hole, figures were violently pulled down by horrible shapes that clawed their way to the top. They too were unable to pierce through the surface.
Without much more to do, Ambros stepped out.
Ignaeus came to the threshold. There he cast Read Magic and Read Languages. And then he dared to read the scriptures on the canoe. Fighting violent visions, the elf surmised that this is some sort of vessel that allows one to traverse the “river of lost souls,” whatever they might be.
“Let's close these doors, get our treasure, and get out of here!”
And so they did! Very promptly, if one might add.
The question is: will they return to squeeze the dry rag once again?
Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.
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A zine chronicling the Conquering the Barbarian Altanis D&D campaign. Can't believe how time flies—fourth year of publishing the zine!
This issue details sessions 69, 70, and 71 as adventurers help a worried figure eliminate an old threat. Nothing goes as planned.
You can download the issue here.
Overlord's Annals zine is available in print as part of the legendary Alarums & Excursions APA, issue 591:
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