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 the nineteenth, twentieth , and twenty-first session—founding of the world famous Hydra Company.
You can download the issue here.
Overlord's Annals zine is available in print as part of the legendary Alarums & Excursions APA, issue 567:
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Session judged by myself, report written by Sleazy B, player who controled Serga in this session. He usually plays Eccy Throi in the Conquering the Barbarian Altanis campaign.
The Party
HEAR THIS, the age of Serga is upon us! I, Uglamm the Wretched, have been tasked with the glorious honor of chronicling his tale.
It was the retrieval of Alkarg, the Elf-Destroyer, that brought this age to ripeness. I was honored to be among those tasked with delving into the lost citadel of Alhurmus, the bastion of his revered ancestor Mondru IV (may Gruumsh glorify his name!), and there to combat the many traps and deadly beasts. Yet it was through Serga’s strength that we were victorious!
Be it remembered that the numerous clever traps of Mondru’s fortress felled brave orcs who gave their life for Serga! And it was their blood that stoked the fire of Serga’s resolve. The halls of the fortress were lined with statues of the honored dead, and trophies torn bloodily from the hands of slaughtered elf-kind. And each of them seemed to bow and cheer “Serga!” as he passed. Enshrined among the great halls were heroes of old, and their treasures, and they too looked upon their descendant with admiration and respect. For Serga is the chosen of Gruumsh!
Let the name of the vile lycanthrope who defiled those hallowed halls be forgotten, only the glory of Serga remains. Through violence and treachery, many of Serga’s servants were slain. So it was that only his brother Baktar, and his servants Durz and Nogurgh survived to accompany Serga to the lowest level of the fortress, where resided the Bane of Elves. How beautiful were those lower halls which glorified Gruumsh! And yet, even here, the brilliance of Mondru’s defenses cost incautious Durz his life. There were many riddles there, engraved upon black iron gates. And yet, for one as clever in words as Serga there was nothing hidden! For he was wise in the written form. Cautiously did he, his brother, and his servant enter to that final chamber. And yet seeing the prize in front of him, the Elf-Destroyer, Serga strode forward bravely. And the honored dead that lined the hall there were glad to see him, and they proferred to him the spear itself which he had sought.
The three heroes rose victorious through the labyrinth to where they had entered into the fortress, and where awaited Serga and Baktar’s father Thaagwa, who had taught Serga the ways of Gruumsh, and his retinue of brave Orcs. Yet when they entered into the plain air they discovered treachery! A band of men, led by hateful elves, had put to the sword Serga’s faithful followers, and even his father (though his father lived just long enough to see his son emerge).
Seeing this evil before him, and the blood spilled by those that would oppose him, there rose in Serga a righteous fury. And he strode into the field, glowing a brilliant red, a sign of his hatred for the treacherous elves! There he did battle with those villains, I saw it with my own eyes! He slew them to the last one. And though Baktra and Nogurgh could not withstand the hateful violence of the elves, Serga emerged, all drenched in the blood of his enemies. Let it be known! All who oppose the chosen of Gruumsh will find only destruction.
#Wilderlands #OneShot #SessionReport
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Rhovar | Fighter level 3 | A generic Nordic guy. |
| Gomm | Thief level 4 | Swarthy, good looking, dark-skinned thief. Sweet opium-like aroma is his fragrance of choice. |
| Kuqhir of the Wastes | Magic-User level 2 | A thin, tall, dark skinned man with a magnificent beard that tickles his bellybutton. Dresses in silk robes and tightly folded turban embroidered with names of all known angels. |
| Rad | Thief level 3 | A young, short and malnourished rogue. |
| Eccy Throi | Elf level 1 | Wears a dark green cloak to hide his bulging muscles and crippling anxiety. |
| Barad the Bald | Magic-User level 1 | Bald, beardless, chinless, and lazy-eyed. |
| Amanka | Cleric level 1 | Dour, glum, tight-lipped, and baggy-eyed cleric with a gravestone-shaped talisman. She reveres the Fallen One, a petty god of fallen warriors and unsung heroes. |
| Zilar | Fighter level 1 | A handsome 9th son of a noble who has read too many trashy fantasy books for his own good, and now thinks that bravery is not being scared of anything. |
| BuddyPuddingBottom | Elf level 2 | Peppermint scented elf followed by jingles, on a quest for the perfect gift. |
| Oberon | Fighter level 3 | A tall, supple hunter adorned with bones and horns of his prey. |
| Neremyn | Elf level 1 | A tall, pale, and lean scholar of languages with silver hair and a somewhat distant attitude. |
Morjen. Liana. Yorlen. Meldorian. Warcrown. Kelman.
The names and associated faces were now just a groggy memory for Rhovar and Rad. But not for Barad. Oh no. He still remembers everything from the previous night.
“My dear friends, I bear gifts!”
It was Aergal Firebeard, a dwarf whose son the company had saved months ago.
“It takes time for mithril weapons to be forged, but they are the finest in all of Wilderlands!”
He brought them a mithril short sword, a mace, and a two-handed sword.
“Now, what is it I hear my friends? Is it true that you've been to Kelman's famous Rumble! Oh, don't hold me in dark; spill your beans at once!”
While Rhovar and Rad struggled to remember the details, Barad bluntly said:
“Sorry, but we have signed the Code of Secrecy. We are not allowed to speak of the night. We hope you understand.”
“I see, I see. Well, see you again in a few months. All of you are welcome to my manor at any time. Maybe visit once?”
“Hey, where is Eccy?” finally someone spoke up.
“Oh yeah, we received a letter from the Walled Bazaar. Apparently he made a huge mess there yesterday. Got into a fight and broke some noses, flipped few stands and what not. They subdued him and threw him into prison. They are asking for 1200 gold pieces to release him unharmed, plus 741 silver pieces for damage done.”
“He is a good elf. We will pay the ransom.”
“By the way, have we gotten any responders to our call for adventurers?”
Indeed, five individuals answered Hydra Company's call: fighter Richrad “The Treacherous” Feutrer, thief Watt “The Merciful” Coxeter, magic-user Arnbella Meale, cleric of luck Bowerroth, and cleric of the library Galiana “The Lily” Payne.
All were hired.
“Well met old friends!”
Yet another visitor came to the Hydra Company's headquarters.
This time it was Herat, a female warrior that was briefly with them during their time at the mushroom caves.
“You remember how I joined Sinai because he promised that he'd help me find my sister? Well, I have a very strong lead! But I need your help... Apparently, the she was a member of adventuring party that went to seek a crypt in the jungle just east of here. I even got a map—see? Would you be willing to head there with me?”
“And what is the pay?” Rad magnanimously asked.
Herat blushed. “I don't have anything to pay you, but if the rumours are true, the crypt she went seeking is full of ancient treasure. That should suffice, no?”
“Yes.”
And so the company set out to prepare a new expedition.
Oh how impressive they were!
A column with three marching abreast led by Rhovar mounted on glorious Umber Fury, the warhorse of mysteriously missing Sir Fondleroy.
Eccy, Zilar (a new guy who just joined the company), Neremyn, Amanka, Kuqhir, Barad, and BuddyPuddingBottom were joined by their retainers Galiana, Arnbella, Bowerroth, and Richrad.
The wizards actually rode in the VVagon pulled by two draft horses.
Finally, ten mercenaries armed with shortbows and daggers followed.
Herat was up front with Rhovar, since she had the map to her sister's supposed last location.
Just as they were leaving the Gates of Antil, Barad the Bald had caught glimpse of a familiar face. Although dressed in a simple clothing and without large grey robe, Barad was certain this was Meldorian the “Gargoyle” from the previous night's horror show.
The man looked nervous and was continuously looking over his shoulders. Somehow he failed to notice the impressive column of the Hydra Company.
“Rhovar! That's one of them!”
The Skandik warrior trodded to the unsuspecting man; towering over on him on Umber Fury; and demanded in booming voice he enters into their VVagon.
Meldorian was so shocked he went as pale as Kelman's albino servants. He couldn't form a single coherent sentence. He was pushed into the VVagon with little resistance.
“You'll go on a ride with us now. Don't you worry.” Barad consoled the man.
Meldorian sat in silence, shivering and trembling in anticipation.
“Some thugs are following us.” Rad announced.
Well, whomever they were, they were not brave enough to challenge the Hydra Company in the open.
“Kelman's spies, for sure.”
“W-w-where are you taking me?”
Meldorian finally spoke.
“Oh, that's no concern of yours. Relax.”
And little did they speak to the man until they were several hours away from Antil.
“Speak, fiend! You threw the dice as will, did you not!”
“Spare me! I did not want to play, but I value my life more than some beggars' and lepers'!”
“Have you not seen us walk out?!”
“To be honest, I expected you to show up on some of the planks as well! How could I know they'd really let you leave?”
“Where were you going now?”
“I was fleeing Antil, that's where I've been going! And you should too! Anyone who returns is a dead man.”
With a little helping of motivational intimidation, Meldorian revealed his plan was to surprise everyone with a Sleep spell, and then simply pick up all the valuable. He got cold feet as the night went on and simply gave up.
And somehow he managed to gather enough courage to insult Barad:
“Esteemed colleague, you asked me how do I remember the events from the last night. Any mage worth their salt would've recognised that “Code of Secrecy” was nothing but a simple curse for the feeble-minded.”
By now Rhovar had enough of the man.
“I'll cut off your tongue and chop off your hands!”
Eccy Throi supported that notion.
Others simply turned their heads away as Meldorian grovelled for mercy. But no matter how much he begged, Rhovar had made up his mind.
Seeing he has no other option, Meldorian fled for the jungle, running as fast as he could. He even left behind his haversack. Luckily for him, Rhovar and Eccy were to slow to catch up. Others did not try to prevent him from escaping.
“Bah. Herat, are we close yet?”
“No.”
“This must be it!”
After nearly twelve hours of jungle exploration, they had finally found the entrance into the crypt marked on Herat's map.
The following were to go in as the main party: Herat, Rhovar, Eccy, Zilar, Amanka, Rad, Neremyn, BuddyPuddingBottom, Kuqhir, Bowerroth, Galiana, and Arnbella. The rest formed a camp at the safest spot they could find.
The passage the have discovered at the back of a cave led them to another huge water-filled underground cavern opening up into the Romilion Sea some few hundred yards north.
A wooden bridge crossed the subterranean river flowing into the sea, leading to portal beside a twenty feet high tower. From where the stood, the party could infer that this was an underground dock of sorts.
Two more towers followed the first one, with a docking bay between each. The bays were at a lower level, with steps leading down into the water. Everything was littered with rubble and masonry. The steps, as well as part of the docks were also covered with wet green weed, slime, barnacles and sea snails.
The elves could hear a feint sound of rustling leaves.
Opposite of the second tower stood twenty feet tall and twenty feet wide double doors. They were arched and covered in carving of intertwined skeletons, culminating with a large carved flame at the top of the archway.
Four thick metal bars ran across the doors, with numerous chains and padlock shackling them to the doors. Rad couldn't resist the temptation, so he decided to try to pick one of the locks.
At the same time, the rest of the party searched the towers and docking bays, finding little of interest except a rotting barge with a skeleton and a rusted chest.
“Chest, you say! Now that's more my drift!”
Rad reached the barge without any delay.
“Hmm, yes, a chest.”
The skeleton crumbled into dust as soon as it was prodded.
“OUCH!”
As soon as he stepped into the barge, two lampreys lunged at him, surprising the young thief.
Buddy immediately shot down one, while the other was put to sleep by Kuqhir. Zilar ran down the slippery stairs just in time to embrace panicked Rad in his strong arms.
After everyone had calmed down, they recovered the rusty chest, finding an ornate golden goblet, a flask with liquid, blue gourd full of white sand, and a silver armband.
“Guys, there are another big ass doors here as well.”
Indeed, at the end of eastern portion of the docks stood fifteen feet wide and twenty feet tall opening. It was framed with skeletal borders surrounding a cascade of water. On the floor was a three feet wide groove.
The “doors” was in fact a thick slab of stone. It currently stood at some ten feet above ground.
Simultaneously, Neremyn had been exploring behind the metal bars blocking the large double doors they've previously encountered.
“Aha”
Beneath the lowest bar he found a concealed lever. Smart elf he is, he decided to use a ten foot pole to flip it.
BAM!
The stone slab fell down with such force that it almost knocked Buddy on his bottom.
“Oh, I guess we now know what this lever does.”
Flipping it again resulted in the stonegates being open once more. They opened into a dark chamber.
“Light up. We are going in.”
The party entered into a large chamber with ceiling so high they had to shoot an arrow to see it. The marble floor in the center of the room was covered in mysterious symbols. On top of them two men laid solemnly. Both looked long dead.
“Uh, this looks worrying.”
Smaller double doors were to the north and south.
After carefully prodding and experimenting with the rune carved floor, the party had decided it's safe enough to be approached. Casting Read Languages, Neremyn was able to decipher part of the writing. In essence it spoke of faraway people whom established this as their final resting place. The High Priest and The Archmage were in charge of interment processions. And, perhaps most importantly to the party, everyone here is buried with all their worldly possessions.
“Shh! Noise behind northern doors!”
THUD. THUD. THUD.
It sounded like something hard was banging against another hard surface.
Thirsting for action, they party ordered themselves behind the doors. Rhovar and Zilar led the charge.
They burst into a chamber with several broken bunks and shredded mattresses, barrels, and few desks. In front of them a group of three men were using a bench as a battering ram against doors to the east.
“Look! They have hoods! And daggers! They must be the bad guys!”
The party immediately killed one, and beaten the other two senseless.
Alas, they failed to notice an elf hiding behind the barrels. The surprise weaved his hands and spoke few words, dropping everyone but insomniac Amanka.
He too was beaten senseless shortly thereafter.
A defiant shout came from behind the doors hooded men tried to break through.
“You will never get me alive!”
Illustrations by Idle Doodler.
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Rhovar | Fighter level 3 | A generic Nordic guy. |
| Gomm | Thief level 4 | Swarthy, good looking, dark-skinned thief. Sweet opium-like aroma is his fragrance of choice. |
| Kuqhir of the Wastes | Magic-User level 2 | A thin, tall, dark skinned man with a magnificent beard that tickles his bellybutton. Dresses in silk robes and tightly folded turban embroidered with names of all known angels. |
| Rad | Thief level 3 | A young, short and malnourished rogue. |
| Eccy Throi | Elf level 1 | Wears a dark green cloak to hide his bulging muscles and crippling anxiety. |
| Barad the Bald | Magic-User level 1 | Bald, beardless, chinless, and lazy-eyed. |
After months of adventuring, all Hydra Company members have finally returned to their Antil headquarters. It was a bit dusty and empty, with all the men Winslow had previously recruited gone.
The city was bustling with activity, its streets chock-full of pilgrims from all over the Wilderlands. The Great Pilgrimage to Lagh Anon is announced to begin on the hottest week of the year, which is expected soon.
But our adventurers care little for such trite matters!
It was time to rest, heal, and revel in recovered riches!
Rhovar commissioned a magnificently terrifying horned helmet and bearskin-cloak. Gomm found an artist skilled enough to make a statuette of the gold-cloaked man he had encountered at the Silent Glade. Eccy found it difficult to rest and study ever since he came in the possession of that serrated axe. Violence seemed like a correct answer to every obstacle. Oberon was left in the capable hands of Shang-Ta acolytes. They tended his wounds as they flexed their muscles.
But none of them were as happy as Rad.
A tall, gaunt, bald albino man in purple robes delivered an intricately carved, palm-sized, wooden box specifically for young thief.
“Oh, it must be THE invitation!”
Indeed, it was an invitation to the annual Kelman Rumble, a high ticket, invite-only gambling event. The letter enclosed stipulated that he is allowed to take up to two guests, that there will be eight rounds of gambling at 100 gold pieces per round, and that the final, ninth, round will with starting bets at 500 gold pieces. Oh, and attendees are heavily encouraged to come in elaborate costumes. No weapons allowed either.
“Rhovar! Barad! You won't believe this... Come, we have only three days to get ready!”
The trio decided to costume themselves into a three-part hydra-like monster. Hence they procured scale tunics and shirts, green paint, and some reptiles' scales—crocodiles' if they were to trust the seller.
Rad donned the scale shirt and tunic, and then glued additional scales to his back and arms. He also glued some to his face, after painting it green. “This colour” the woman told him “is safe 18 out of 20 times. I promise!”
Rhovar applied the same paint to his arms, neck and face. He also doused his blond Skandik hair until it was vibrant green, and formed an upright spike. Then he threw a scale tunic over and rubbed saltwater in his eyes to get that menacing red look.
Like Rhovar, Barad also painted his arms, neck and face. He also dressed in scale tunic. Then he painted an elaborate Hydra face on top of his bald head.
Rhovar, being the largest of the three, stood in the centre. He'd open his arms, with Rad and Barad walking underneath them. Together they voltroned a mean looking scaly, green thing.
Accompanied with eight mercenaries—also painted in green—whom were tasked with carrying a chest with 3000 gold pieces for gambling, the trio marched on to Lord Kelman's manor.
People followed them with a great interest and envy.
The walled manor, situated in the Warden's Quarter, indeed looked immaculate.
Our costumed adventurers were greeted by more silent, purple robed, hairless albino men.
Lo and behold, one of them could actually speak:
“You have arrived just in time. We will take care of your belongings. Your men are most welcome to wait for you outside.”
The trio proceeded alone beyond the gates. The courtyard was dominated with a white marble fountain shaped like a cupped hand. Water was jetting out from each finger tip. Rad noticed a few coins glittering in the depths of the water below.
“You have been invited by the esteemed Lord Kelman. All guests are required to sign the Code of Secrecy. What happens here, stays here.”
Rhovar and Rad signed hastily, the latter just stamping his thumb. Barad studied the contract a bit more. It was harsh one, with quite strict penalties.
“I'm sorry, but only those that sign will be admitted.”
The bald man signed.
“Please follow me into the bar. We will put your belongings into a safe place.”
Lavishly furnished room was populated with many people in costumes—a large ape, a courtesan, a peasant, a woman with large feathered mask, an old matron dressed as a fairy, a nobleman continuously counting his coins, a man with cloth armour boasting how he killed a bear with his bare hands, a huge man in loincloth, a giggly butterfly, a man in golden suit, a man in grey robe who claims he is a gargoyle, and a bumblebee—just to name few!
Drinks were served at no cost, something Rhovar exploited generously. The gorgeous courtesan quickly constricted his biceps.
“Ohhh, are these real or are they part of the costume?”
“Real!”
His further advances are best left forgotten.
The man in gold clothes was fully uninterested in any talk with Barad. He used every opportunity to deride or ridicule him.
“May I know your name?” Barad asked.
“Oh, you will know it soon” the man replied.
And so on and so forth.
The “gargoyle” was more open to conversation, but had trouble coming up with sentences.
“Uh... Yeah. I'm a sculptor.”
“Great, my friend was just looking for one! Maybe you could help him?”
“Oh. Yes, yes. Sure. He can visit me next month, I'm very busy.”
“Where about?”
“Port?”
“I'll let him know. Do you know who is the man in gold dress?”
“That? Oh, that's Lord Taramek Warcrown.”
Rad was having the time of his life, chatting around with people. He did not go straight for drinks, readying himself for the thing he came for. Gambling.
“Give us space!” Rhovar announced.
“Come guys, come, quick!”
Rad and Barad scuttled to him.
“Behold!”
The trio performed their hydra reenactment to the the cheering crowd. Everybody but Warcrown clapped.
A bell announced that Rumble was about to begin.
Attendees were led into a large round chamber, even more lavishly furnished than the bar. Half of the walls were glass looking outside. A humongous red carpet covered most of the room. Several lacquered wood tables were scattered about, with several candles, series of dice and card decks set upon each table. An elaborate candelabra hung above the room. Finally, an immense blood-red curtain dominated the northeastern part of the circular room.
“Welcome to my humble abode!”
A finely dressed man with an elaborate tiger mask greeted the group. Rad immediately noticed a number of jeweled rings adorning the man's hands. Belt looked expensive as well.
“Please take a seat around the table of your choice!”
The Hydra trio now broke up, to ensure they don't gamble against each other.
Oh how the dice had rolled!
By the end of eight round Rad and Barad had lost 500 gold pieces each. Rhovar fared better, but he too at the end had a net loss of 200 gold pieces.
Barad's table went through a fair bit of drama. Warcrown kept winning and insulting everyone at the table. His provocations landed poorly with the counting noble, whom first accused Warcrown of cheating. The gold dressed nobleman brutally refuted and humiliated the counter:
“Oh “Looord” Aronulus, when will you learn? Are you so lost without your daddy around? Will you gamble away yet another daughter of yours?”
His provocations did not land well with Aronulus. He flipped the table with rage and punched the foul speaking Warcrown. Albino baldies overpowered him with surprising ease, and carried him out like he was a little child.
“This is not a game for everybody!” Warcrown announced triumphantly to Barad, as he won yet another game.
“Huh, not so many of us left...”
“Ladies and gentleman, thank you for playing. I hope you've been enjoying yourself so far. I kindly ask everyone to return to the bar as we prepare the room for the final game.”
The final players, in addition to our hydra trio, included the muscled barbarian, the courtesan, the peasant, the “gargoyle,” and Lord Warcrown.
“The final round is about to commence. Please follow me.” the sole albino speaker announced.
The group was led to the same round chamber, although this time they were face with a huge red curtain.
“Welcome! This is my favourite part of the night!” Lord Kelman spoke, barely containing his excitement. “The winner will receive this wonderful golden mermaid statuette with tiny sapphire scales.”
After Kelman finished explaining the rules, albino servants rolled back the thick red carpet revealing a glass floor that seemed to have a pit of boiling liquid below it.
Then they pushed the curtain aside revealing a giant box resting on top of the glass floor, straight above the pit of boiling liquid.
Inside the box were nine people tied to nine wooden planks each attached to a swivel. Aronulus was one of them. Three were lepers, the one Hydra Company helped find a “safe” home in the Antil's sewers.
“What the fuck...” Rhovar murmured.
“Who will roll first?” Kelman boomed.
“Hand me the dice, friend!” Warcrown yelled.
“Eight!” Kelman read the result.
“I close number four first!”
One of the bald servants flipped the board with large white number four in front of plank Lord Aronulus's was tied to. As he did so, the plank turned on the swivel, dropping the man into the pit below.
“I'll take good care of your daughters Aronulus!” Warcrown shouted at the screaming man dissolving in front of their eyes.
“Close one and three next!”
“What! I'll kill them all now!” Rhovar whispered.
Rad stood numbly, paralysed.
“We are unarmoured, outnumbered, and without weapons.” Barad tried to calm the Skandik warrior.
“Morjen! Listen to me!” Rhovar turned to the scantly dressed barbarian. “Are you enjoying this?”
“I don't understand what's happening. How is this game played?”
“Don't you see? You roll the dice, and then you are forced to kill these innocent peo–”
“Like this?” and he rolled them.
“Two!” was the result.
“I close two?”
And yet another person was dropped in the vat below.
The courtesan played next.
The “gargoyle” and peasant joined in as well.
“Won't you play?” Kelman inquired.
“No. Are we allowed to leave?”
“Oh! Woe! Have I invited wrong people? Are these the famed officers of the Hydra Company!”
“Yes, you are free to leave. Your coins will stay with us, though. For the expenses, you see.”
“What have I told you Barad? This game isn't for everyone!”
Kelman and Warcrown heartily laughed as the trio was escorted out of the room.
“I hope you head a pleasant evening.” albino servant said whilst escorting them out of the manor.
The party was quiet, for the first time.
“We will return. We will have vengeance.”
“We will kill them all.
Morjen, the barbarian.
Liana, the courtesan.
Yorlen, the peasant.
Meldorian, the gargoyle.
Warcrown, the asshole.
And Kelman, the host.”
“We should report them all! This is horrible!”
“To whom? There is no police in the Barbarian Altanis.”
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A zine chronicling the Conquering the Barbarian Altanis D&D campaign.
This issue details the sixteenth, seventeenth , and eighteenth session. This time it's all about towers.
You can download the issue here.
Overlord's Annals zine is available in print as part of the legendary Alarums & Excursions APA, issue 566:
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Hârn kingdoms of Kaldor, Melderyn, Rethem, and Orbaal:
HârnWorld 40th anniversary hardback is being crowdfunded at the moment.
Riddle Register: The Ultimate Book of Riddles:
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| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Kuqhir of the Wastes | Magic-User level 2 | A thin, tall, dark skinned man with a magnificent beard that tickles his bellybutton. Dresses in silk robes and tightly folded turban embroidered with names of all known angels. |
| Amanka | Cleric level 1 | Dour, glum, tight-lipped, and baggy-eyed cleric with a gravestone-shaped talisman. She reveres the Fallen One, a petty god of fallen warriors and unsung heroes. |
| Rad | Thief level 3 | A young, short and malnourished rogue. |
| Oberon | Figher level 3 | A tall, supple hunter adorned with bones and horns of his prey. |
Having stayed behind for the last expedition, Sam decided to lead his own party to the bandit camp. If anyone could determine there were no valuables left behind, then that was him!
Lady Luck was on his side, and he managed to recruit Kuqhir, a grand wizard hailing from the Wastes; Amanka, a cleric whom he already knew; and Oberon, a mean looking headhunter.
Norvin the Ranger was happy to lead them back to the Circle of Stone where bandit camp was. Doubly so, because Ithiel, a child Eccy has saved, claimed there were others like him...
Rad and his retinue reached the camp by noon.
Oberon the Stag demonstrated his usefulness by scouting up ahead. Due to his amazing skill he became nearly invisible in the foliage. He discovered a camp full of arrow-ridden corpses, just like Rad had expected.
The quarter scanned the camp once more, just to double check if any valuable have been left behind.
“Hmmm...”
Rad couldn't find two tiger-face beasts that Eccy and Rhovar spoke much about. There were bandit corpses, there were hobgoblin corpses, and there was Finegan's beheaded corpse... But no large beasts.
“Let's head down the cave tunnel. This is where Finegan and monsters charged out from.”
“Wait, I have a brilliant idea.” Oberon interjected. The headhunter picked up the lightest bandit corpse and threw it down the tunnel.
“You always have to check for traps! Dungeoneering 101!”
He continued kicking the corpse down the tunnel.
Neither Amanka, nor the others, objected.
Kuqhir lit up the lantern, as they descended into darkness.
“Halt!”
Another decapitated corpse. It was lying one the cave floor, with its belly facing down. The arms were outstretched forwards, as if the person tried to crawl away from something.
The corpse did not react to Amanka's holy words. Nor to Rad's arrow. Finally, Oberon took the corpse he was kicking, and threw it on the decapitated one.
Nothing happened.
“Eccy did mention that Finegan came out holding a chopped off head. Maybe it was his?”
The corpse was at the corner of a T-shaped junction. To their left was another corpse, sitting on a broken bench. This unlucky bastard was split in half, from groin upwards. If it was to judge by the chunks of hanging flesh, the wound had to be inflicted with a saw-like weapon.
There was little else of interest besides the corpse. The party turned to their right, carefully moving forwards. This led them to a cavernous chamber too big for their light sources.
Rad stepped forward, checking for traps. Just as he was to turn around and inform his men about the absence of obvious traps, he managed to trip on a string of something.
“Aaaaaa!”
An audible clank could be heard, and a stiff corpse fell right in front of him, forcing him to unleash a not-so-manly scream.
A lifeless, naked man hung in front of him. The hands were tied behind his backs. The man was covered in many bruises.
Looking up, the party couldn't see the ceiling. The rope the man was hanging from was tense.
“Whomever had place this is now aware of our presence. Tread lightly.”
Looking ahead, the party was at a junction. They could see clear paths forward, to the right, and to the left. Right they went, hugging the cave wall.
Pressing onwards, they quickly realised that cave wall on their left was in fact a large pillar—and that they were in a truly cavernous chamber.
They eventually stumbled upon a shabby looking bench and a rotten barrel. Just beyond them were two more benches. Several dice laid on the low table just between the benches.
“Shh!”
Rad picked up on muffled cries to the west.
Heavily armoured Amanka took the lead.
The source was quickly found.
A bound and gagged person sitting on the cave floor.
It was dragged into darkness just as the party approached it.
In that split second they had clearly seen the person's terrified, tear-smudged face.
“This is a trap.” the mage announced stoically.
“At least we are not facing the undead.”
“Hey, we might be facing intelligent undead!”
“Trap or no trap, we must rescue this poor soul.”
Gritting his teeth, Rad pressed on together with the party.
They followed the muffled cries, as well as the blood trail left by the poor soul being dragged naked along the jagged cavern floor.
Now they entered another cave chamber, still too large to be illuminated with a single lantern, but noticeably smaller than the previous one.
The victim was dragged northwards.
Kuqhir quickly examined the cave chamber, just to make sure no surprise would come from the flanks. Amanka was focused on saving the person as soon as possible. Rad took the center position so he can make a good shot. Oberon was surprised with six javelins from the darkness, with three striking.
The hunter suffered greatly, collapsing to the ground. One of the javelins lodged quite deep, breaking several of the ribs in the process. Barely conscious, he crawled up against the cave wall.
The javelins, as well as low grunts, came from behind the party—the chamber they came from.
“Illuminate them, and I shall lay Waste upon them!” Kuqhir demanded, as he weaved the arcane powers.
Rad ran to the edge of darkness, lit up the oil flask, and chucked it towards the grunts. Although hitting none, the spilt oil caught fire and illuminated a gang of four squat goblins.
Amanka clasped her hands, uttered holy words, and pointed at the large stone beneath one of the monsters. It lit up, and shone bright light on the surroundings.
Kuqhir could now clearly see six goblins and two tower tiger-faced monsters. By the time he said his words, did his moves, and pointed his fingers, all of the monsters hit the ground in deep slumber.
Another tiger-faced monster, followed by two goblins, came out of darkness to the north. This was the direction the naked person was dragged from.
The large monster spoke in broken Common:
“You. Leave. Or I kill!” pointing at the downed hunter.
Expert negotiators they are, the party shot an offer consisting of an arrow, an pebble, and an oil flask. The monsters counter-offered three javelins for Oberon.
Monster's offer missed the mark.
On the other hand, the party's offer was a great success, leaving monsters floored.
Rad and Kuqhir rapidly executed the sleeping monsters, while Amanka pressed on to find the person used as a bait. Oberon was quietly trying to stay alive.
Mario was the name used as a bait. He was in absolutely horrible shape, with chunks of flesh and muscle hanging from his arms, legs, and back.
“Save my children, please, I beg of you” he cried and pleaded.
“Uh huh, it's a trap.”
“If it is, he definitely seems committed to the act!”
“Please, my seven children, please...”
The man told the party everything he knew about the place. The bandits camped outside, while the monsters were here. Ransom victims were held in the large cave to the northwest.
Amanka was firm. She will help this man, even if it is a trap. Kuqhir decided to accompany her. Rad helped Oberon get out.
Mario limped badly, bleeding profusely. His children were the only thing he talked about.
“Just around the corner.”
Amanka strolled in confidently.
Kuqhir followed.
A tiger-faced monster was facing them.
It stood tall, with both arms outstretched.
Countless oil flasks hung around its neck and arms.
Seven bound kids laid by its feet.
“Stop. No close. I kill all.”
“Put down the weapons and let the children go.”
“You go.”
“Lay down your weapons, liberate the kids, and we might let you live!”
“You want child? 100 gold coin each.”
“OK, that's enough.”
Betting a lifetime of guilt, Kuqhir once again did his slumber-inducing routine.
The beast swung its arms, as if to clasp them.
Luckily for all involved, Kuqhir was quicker, and the monster fell down on its back, failing to ignite anything.
Mario ran up, untying his kids with bloodied fingers. They cried and hugged their dad.
The chamber was littered with iron manacled. It reeked and was caked with body waste.
“Come, let's get you out of here.”
Leaving them all, including badly wounded Oberon, with Norving, Rad, Amanka, and Kuqhir returned to the caves.
Unopposed, they explored all the chambers. Two were of particular interest.
To the northeast was a large chamber, nearly the size of the one with pillars. It had just over twenty soiled bedrolls of varying sizes. Oh, and there was a narrow tunnel leading further into the darkness to the east.
Besides an assortment of junk, the trio recovered many usable weapons: 21 javelins, 8 spears, 12 clubs, 2 shortswords, and 1 longsword. They also found a rotten chest with 3000 copper coins.
To the southeast was a chamber with a large bearskin rug, bed with solid wooden frame, and a desk. The cave walls looked as if they were regularly assaulted with a serrated weapon. Southern wall was filled with nonsensical scribbles and drawings, which Amanka labelled as chaotic.
One of the desk drawers held several reams of parchment papers. On them were lists of what seemed to be names with numbers next to them. Elan was written next to many of these numbers. The chamber had a rather disturbing atmosphere.
Mario, the bait and father of seven children, on their way to Kestizar unfortunately passed away from his wounds.
“Thank you...” were his last words to Amanka.
Illustrations by Idle Doodler.
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You can read more about the challenge here.
As part of the challenge I made a character each day. They are perfectly usable as retainers for classic Dungeons & Dragons games (BX, BECMI, RC) and their retroclones (e.g. Labyrinth Lord and Old-School Essentials).
Without any further ado, here they are in the list form:
Day 1: Richrad “The Treacherous” Feutrer (Fighter) Day 2 Watt “The Merciful” Coxeter (Thief) Day 3: Arnbella Meale (Magic-User) Day 4: Bowerroth (Cleric) Day 5: Annora Hornblow (Cleric) Day 6: Tolbert “The Violet” (Fighter) Day 7: Theilras Alynshadow (Elf) Day 8: Seaherita Spier (Magic-User) Day 9: Alaine (Thief) Day 10: Widuklar Weakshield (Dwarf) Day 11: Theodosia “The Fiendish” Sendall (Magic-User) Day 12: Luna (Cleric) Day 13: Nireal (Elf) Day 14: Magna “The Numb” (Thief) Day 15: Boastridge Callendar (Magic-User) Day 16: Iduna (Fighter) Day 17: Grover Winmill (Magic-User) Day 18: Proctor Maskill (Magic-User) Day 19: Cottar Goodman (Halfling) Day 20: Galiana “The Lily” Payne (Cleric) Day 21: Bhimrao (Cleric) Day 22: Redesca Tabiner (Magic-User) Day 23: Marorbriel (Elf) Day 24: Anvild Happynose (Dwarf) Day 25: Gadsby “The Waggish” (Fighter) Day 26: Theellith Aelerrili (Elf) Day 27: Newall (Thief) Day 28: Margwald “The Marksman” (Dwarf) Day 29: Zenon (Cleric) Day 30: Montfort Grater (Magic-User) Day 31: Ulrich “The Ripe” Gaman (Fighter)
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Columbia Games is running a Kickstarter for HârnWorld hardcover.
The book will contain:
Basically a detailed view of the Hârn island, and a high-level view of the Lythia continent and Kethira planet.
Harn has beautiful, well thought out materials that are usable with many fantasy systems. The maps are gorgeous and personalities are fleshed out just enough to drop them into any world without too much fuss.
From the HârnWorld introduction:
HârnWorld is a detailed, realistic, flexible, and system-neutral setting for fantasy role-playing games. Since 1983, HârnWorld has been used by thousands of people across the world to run a wide array of medieval fantasy adventures. HârnWorld can accommodate whatever style of campaign you are looking for, whether your player characters are knights, mages, barbarians, clerics, noble lords, mercenaries, gladiators, craftsmen, merchants, thieves, or even simple peasants yearning for adventure.
Check out this free introduction document to learn more.
The Kickstarter campaign ends on March 14th.
Bedsides the HârnWorld 40th Anniversary Hardcover, you can also get all four kingdom hardbacks released so far (Kaldor, Melderyn, Rethem, and Orbaal), as well as complete Columbia Games Harn material.
So far I've been very happy with kingdom hardbacks, and am looking forward to this one as well. Although I run the Wilderlands of High Fantasy setting, I find Harn material invaluable to save prep time for settlements.
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This report covers the combat following session 38 that was resolved over seven days of play-by-post.
| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Rhovar | Fighter level 3 | A generic Nordic guy. |
| Gomm | Thief level 3 | Swarthy, good looking, dark-skinned thief. Sweet opium-like aroma is his fragrance of choice. |
| Eccy Throi | Elf level 1 | Wears a dark green cloak to hide his bulging muscles and crippling anxiety. |
| Barad the Bald | Magic-User level 1 | Bald, beardless, chinless, and lazy-eyed. |
“Is it cowardice to let another man die in your stead? Is it cowardice to save your own life?”
Fighting the urge to ponder existential topics for too long, Eccy took the lead on organising the looting of bandit camp.
He ordered Barad and ten archers to take the high ground above the cave entrance. Rhovar commanded four heavy footmen to flank the cave mouth, ready to ambush anything that comes out.
Gomm and remaining mercenaries started sweeping the tents.
It took Rhovar and Eccy nearly a minute to get everyone where they wanted them to be.
Just as the dust started to settle, Rhovar heard heavy footsteps and metal clanks echoing from the cave mouth!
Eccy, whom was still standing in the middle of the camp, could see a tunnel full of hobgoblins staring him down. Two mean looking figures towered behind them.
He informed the Hydra Company of the incoming threat.
Rhovar and his men kept their breath, waiting in ambush.
Barad signalled archers to approach the cave mouth. Given they were stand on top of it, they had a prime position to rain hell on any daring assailants.
Archers next to Eccy fired a volley down the tunnel, missing their shots. Surprised with their incompetence, Gomm took out his shortbow and downed one hobgoblin.
Trampling over their sole fallen warrior, the hobgoblins pressed forward, reaching the cave mouth. The first row of hobgoblins chucked their spears at Eccy. Then they knelt, and the second row threw theirs as well.
The elf managed to evade three spears thrown at him. Alas, two mercenaries to his side were not of such skill, nor luck.
Eccy could now clearly see the two large, tiger-faced monsters. Both wore large chainshirts. The one with horned helmet held a large, two-handed morning star, while the other one, sporting a magnificent mane, wielded two axes.
The horned one fixated its is gaze on the elf, licking its lips suggestively. The long-haired one hissed at Rhovar, brandishing its axes.
The monster charged out of the tunnel with a roar.
Three hobgoblins and hairy one clashed against Rhovar and his gauntlet of heavy footmen. Horned and and two hobgoblins charged in a straight line towards Eccy and archers standing behind him.
“Fire!”
The archers standing on the rocks around the cave shot a volley at the horned beast and two hobgoblins, killing the latter and wounding the former. The beast looked a bit surprised with being shot in the back.
Rhovar and his men started slicing the beast with great mane. Alas, the footmen on the other side of the cave mouth weren't as effective. One of the hobgoblin's killed one with a mighty blow to the chest.
“Fall back and fire again!”
Eccy yelled as he increased the distance between himself and the beast with horned helmet. The monster hissed at the retreating elf. Its roar was cut short with Gomm's arrow to the throat.
Rhovar could see Brace dramatically staggering, before falling down to his knees. One of the hobgoblins grabbed the soldier whom had killed Finegan the Brutal just minutes ago, and smashed his head against the stone wall. And to add insult to injury, the monster spat on Brace's warm corpse.
“Rhovar, stand back and let us shoot!”
The blond warrior obliged, and rest of the monsters perished under relentless barrage of arrows. The maned beast clanged its battleaxes in disappointment as it succumbed to hail of arrows.
It was a brief, but brutal skirmish.
Three more Hydra Company mercenaries lost on this expedition.
Survivors laboured breaths dominated the soundscape.
Everybody monitored the tunnel intently.
No more footsteps could be heard.
Only darkness could be seen down the slopping tunnel.
“Let's resume with our recovery operation.”
Barad and archers staid on top, watching over the camp and cave mouth. All heavy footmen were ordered to guard the cave mouth as well.
The rest went on to investigate the tents and corpses for any valuables.
Two chests from northern tent were quite heavy and required two individuals to carry. Three chests from the west tent were even heavier. All had padlocks on them.
Two gave off that familiar clanking sound when rattled. Oh how full of coin they must be!
The third chest on the other hand, released a whimper as it was grabbed. The soldiers jumped back in confusion, with some pulling out their swords.
Silent crying is all that Gomm could hear.
“Tell me your name, we have killed your captors.”
No answer.
“Comply with us and you may walk freely again, it is my word.”
Silence.
“Dunno Eccy...”
“Yeah, I don't know either. Could be another fucking troll.”
“I want to help, but knowing Wilderlands...”
“Maybe drag it to the middle of the camp and have all archers aim at it?”
“How about we drill a hole and take a peek?”
“I think that would be hard without hurting whomever is inside. Either way, I propose we go with my plan or burn it.”
“Weird that it isn't answering. It reminds me too much of that dwarf.”
“Maybe it doesn't understand Common? Let me try in Elvish.”
Eccy was rewarded with silence, and yes, more silence, regardless of the language he spoke.
“OK, we go with my plan, Gomm. We bring the chest into the clearing in front of the cave mouth and tell our archers to be ready.”
Just a few steps after they lifted it, Eccy could hear desperate crying from within. The pitch sounded like a child or small creature, perhaps gnome or halfling.
“Barad, come down here. You are a man of languages.”
And so Barad came and asked in Gnomish and Pixie:
“Hello, can you understand me? We are here to help.”
The silence had been broken with intense and desperate crying.
Gomm became fidgety.
“Could you pick the lock or should I smash it with my mace?”
“Yes, let's try and save the cry baby.”
“Nope, didn't work. Got a crowbar?”
“No. Let's leave the chest for a bit and continue searching.”
Large tent also had two bearskins, and three wine casks. Finegan the Brutal had a mean looking handaxe with a serrated edge and a notch running along the blade. It seemed to be for bloodletting. He also had a pouch with gems tied to his belt, as well as an iron ring with seven keys.
“Oh wow. Look at that. Keys.”
Eccy tried keys on the crying chest. 4th key was the right one.
A waft of nauseating stench hit his nostrils as he tilted open the lid. He could see a curled up child lying sideways, cowering and covering its head with small hands. It's all bones and skin, and little more.
He took a step back.
Now everybody could see a naked child crying in a chest.
No surprise trolls showed up.
“It's alright, you're safe now.” Eccy said softly to the child.
The party offered water, food, and clothes to the boy. It took him some time, and some care on their side, but he did manage to calm down.
Ithiel is how he introduced himself. He was kidnapped by this foul group of bandits. Finegan got really mad when he realised that Ithiel wasn't of noble origin, but just a commoner.
He also shared there were more hostages, including other children, but didn't know how many. They are imprisoned in the cave, guarded by horrible tiger-faced monsters.
“You must be really strong to have killed them! One of them killed my father's horse with a single blow!”
“Where are you from Ithiel?” Eccy asked. “We need to get you home.”
The boy paused for a moment, as if in deep thought. Then he suddenly lit up “Weststar!”
“Do you mean 'Kestizar' Ithiel?”
“No?”
“Hmm, well I don't know where that is but we'll find your home.”
The party proceed on with their plan, scrubbing the camp of all the valuables. They also made sure to pick monsters' weapons, cut off the left hands of all the bandits, as well as Finegan's head.
Eccy took Finegan the Brutal's serrated hand axe. Holding it made him feel like he was the mightiest elf in the hundred mile radius. From now on he will fight only with that glorious weapon and nothing else.
Then they buried the fallen mercenaries.
“Death comes for us all, but not everyone truly lives. We have known battle today, have saved the life of an innocent child, and known glory. Tomorrow we may die, but until death comes for us, we are each of us heroes. And with this wine and this gold you will have a hero's reward!”
You reached Kestizar by nightfall. The guards summoned Elidarth the Elder.
“Mother, our people have been avenged!” Norvin the ranger yelled before she got the chance to ask anything. She looks at Eccy and Rhovar, as if to check the veracity of the claim.
She was pleased with the evidence presented to her.
Rhovar took the men to a secluded hill outside of the village, ordered a fire be built and poured some wine into a cooking pot over it.
He set the spear tips and daggers on the coals. Then, when they were hot, he ordered the men to gather and to take up their weapon.
“Come men, dip ye blades into this here brew. Quench the steel in the blood of our enemy. Just as this here wine darkens our blades, it symbolises our shared brotherhood.”
He quenched his blade in the wine. And pointed for them to do the same.
Once this was done he handed out cups, each man to take a cup of wine, and toasted:
“Our first victory, brothers in arms, let us drink to our dead, and let the ghosts of our enemies lament our victory!”
“We are kinsmen now! Now, bring the wenches and let us merrymake!”
A great feast was held for the Hydra Company that night.
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