Attronarch's Athenaeum

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 tenth, eleventh , and twelfth session.

You can download the issue here.

Overlord's Annals zine is available in print as part of the legendary Alarums & Excursions APA, issue 564:

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Adventurers

Character Class Description
Eccy Throi Elf level 1 Wears a dark green cloak to hide his bulging muscles and crippling anxiety.
Adkin the Butcher Fighter level 3 A hot headed warrior quick to fury trained by Marco Vitelli, retired quartermaster of the army of the Invincible Overlord.
Rhovar Fighter level 3 A generic Nordic guy.
Rad Thief level 1 A young, short and malnourished rogue.
Taegen Ianlynn Elf level 1 Tan skinned wood elf of magnificent physique. Doesn't hide it.
Sinai Cleric level 3 White-robbed beduin, worshipper of Bukera, The Silent Scorpion.

Later...

Character Class Description
Flamthwynn Magic-user level 1 An older gentleman sporting fashionable dark blue robe with purplish overtones. Seeking arcane objects and offensive spell.
Dave Basic Fighter level 1 A village boy with an affinity for stabbing rats.

Warmshade 9th, Fireday

“We have it all under the control, don't fall apart now!”

Sinai, Eccy, Adkin, and Rhovar were keeping a host of fungi-men checked. Their positioning forced the creatures to squeeze through the passageway one at a time.

“Thank you friend! I will not forget this!” Ulster, the warrior imprisoned in one of the cages, was profoundly grateful that Rad set him free. Although dressed in nothing but loincloth and tattered shirt, he rushed to pick up mace dropped by Norna.

The latter had perished from horrible wound inflicted by a feral dwarf in another cage. He ripped out her arm, and she bled to death as her party ignored her wails and pleas.

“Somebody take care of that damn dwarf!”

Taegen handed over the lantern to Ehrman, ensured Merinthia that he will be back soon, and rushed into the chamber. There, joined by Ariad, he stabbed the captive dwarf. Grunts, froth, and a mean look was all he got.

“Fall back! Regroup by the cave entrance!”

They've been doing so well. They cut down a dozen of these fungal creatures, nine cursed trees, and other plant-based critters they've encountered.

“Something is very wrong with this dwarf...” Ulster muttered.

Alas, in the chaos Sinai was grabbed by two fungi-men. No matter how hard he fought back, he was unable to break their iron grip. He was dragged into unknown darkness. Eccy didn't manage to get far before being constrained by three creatures.

Given their retreat, light abandoned the chamber, barely illuminating the entrance—just enough for the retreating warriors to see creatures right in front of them.

“You left something behind.” an unexpectedly deep, almost growling sound voiced from the darkness.

“What the–”

The party had no time for wonder, for a cage came flying from the darkness. It landed straight on Taegens's broad chest, nearly killing him. And indeed, were it not for his amazing physique, he'd be nothing but a mangled collection of bone and sinew.

“Go, save yourself!” Eccy shouted, encouraging his friends to flee. He continued fighting the fungi-men, desperately trying to set himself free. Few of the creatures ignored him and went toward the growls in the darkness.

Ehrman, Ariad, and Merinthia rapidly moved upstream. Taegen and Rad were just behind them. Heavily armoured Adkin and Rhovar were way behind.

And then it went from bad to worse.

A towering black figure stepped out of the darkness. Nearly 8 feet tall, with long, lanky arms. It was so black it seemed like it was sucking the colour out of its surroundings. Its amazing blackness made it impossible to make sense of any features—except two. First, it had two blood-red eyes which felt like razors cutting at the very fabric of being . Second, it had a pearly white grin spanning the width of its head. Snot-yellow foam was dripping from it.

The figure moved with shocking speed. It ran right past the fungal creatures and captured Eccy, past the armoured warriors, and stopped just short of Rad and Taegen.

“I said, you left something behind.” the demon turned to Adkin, dwarfing him. It raised it right arm, showing a short-sword given to it by the fighter. And then it just dropped it into the stream.

“Um, ahm, why thank you.” the warrior stammered. “Now that we saved you, how about you help us escape?”

The creature was so close he could smell its horrible breath. He could also make out some of its facial features: long nose flattened against its face, large ears, and tense, leathery skin covered with warts and boils.

“Banter? I'm hungry, you know...”

Rad quickly dropped some rations. Adkin offered his wine.

The creature threw its head back, as in disbelief, and growled “Oh no, I'm hungry for something else! Your flesh!”

Without any further venue of escape, Rhovar and Adkin attacked the creature. Nordman missed, but Adkin delivered a stunning blow, nearly severing the monster in half. The creature roared and wailed whilst Adkin watched in horror as parts of its wounds are closing right in front of his eyes.

Rad the Bad snuck up to the creature from behind. He acted without hesitation. He doused the monster's open wound with oil. Then he wasted no time in shoving a lit torch deep into the gash. His bold action was well rewarded.

The monster roared and thrashed around as flames engulfed it. Then it melted away like a large, black candle. Thick, oily substance covered the stream.

Alas, there was no time for celebration. Eccy was still held by a number of fungi-men. The party had decided to leave him behind—all but Ulster.

“No! I refuse to go! Haven't you seen what they do their prisoners? It's fate worse than death!”

“Listen, you must go! Leave!”

“No... No!”

“Leave!”

“I promise I will come back! And I will bring an army! We will level this accursed place! I promise!

And so Eccy was left behind in darkness.

It was pitch black outside.

A sole figure sat by the campfire. Few horses slept next to her.

“Herat!”

“I was starting to get worried... Where is Sinai?!”

“He was captured. Listen, we have no time. Saddle the horses, we must leave at once!”

The party rode until the first ray of sunlight guided them to Bathdawn. There they crashed and spent the day sleeping.

Warmshade 10th, Spiritday

“My father will surely reward you. I'm from Tenoch, a village that's just one day of riding to west.”

Coin is coin. Taegen stayed behind to rest and heal, while the rest escorted Merinthia to her home. Dave Basic, the village pest controller, and Flamthwynn, a wizard seeking spells of great power, joined the party as well.

Indeed, they were warmly greeted in Tenoch. Kegan, wealthy farmer and Merinthia's father, welcomed the party to his manor. Meats and ale were served in great quantities, and good times were had.

As the night drew close, Kegan brought forth a heavy sack of coin and presented it as a gift to the party. Rad the Scale estimated it to be some five hundred coins heavy.

“Is that all?” Adkin inquired. “Without us your daughter would still be in that hole. If you don't have more coin, how about you provide us supplies and men?”

“We cannot afford to spend any man. This is ruthless territory. I'm happy to provide ropes, oil and food, but cannot offer much more than that...”

“How about we take Merinthia back?”

“Are you threatening me?”

The tensions were soon calmed by other, more level headed participants, and festivities were continued. Despite that small hiccup, the adventurers were invited to spend the night in the manor house so they can leave refreshed.

Warmshade 11th, Airday

New day, new victories.

Rat boy spent the morning catch rats. That earned him 79 copper coins. Adkin and Rhovar fletched some arrows and exchanged words with the militia captain. The latter was impressed with them and asked if they'd be willing to train the locals.

Rad threw some pebbles, before joining Flamthwynn. The wizard heard that there was another, truer, wizard in Tenoch. The people described him as appalling and scary. Most keep away from him. Not Flamthwynn though.

It didn't take them long to find his house.

Knocks were answered by a grumpy looking man dressed in garish yellow robe with blue inscriptions. One look at Flamthwynn made his face glow.

“A man of Arts! What a delightful surprise. My name is Minn Almar. Please come in...” the man, despite his invitation, was rather awkward and cumbersome in his move, almost like he isn't sure how to behave in presence of others.

Flamthwynn broke the silence “So! What brings you to live in this fine place, wise Almaruz... Amiraz? Emorul? ... Wise colleague?”

The man frowned “Minn Almar.”

The inside of his villa was opulently dressed—unlike anything adventurers have seen in Tenoch so far. Merinthia's father's manor pales in comparison.

A selection of teas was served by purple-skinned slave boys. Some of them smelled fruity, others earthy.

“Oh, I had enough of city life. I sought a perfect place far and wide until I found this humble village.”

“It is perfectly positioned between Antil and Actun. Farms here are abundant, so there is healthy trade with both cities. I hate the dirty streets and zealots of the Walled City.”

“Elves of Actun make my skin crawl, but they have many arcane wares and secrets... Again, Tenoch shines, because it serves as the usual meeting place between them and local humans.”

“Surely you recognise the brilliance of my choice?”

He took a hearty sip of brown-coloured tea.

“What brings you here, Flamthwynn? What is your specialty?”

“And why is your slave boy eyeing my properties so intently?” he asked, motioning to Rad.

Rad looked around, wondering who he is talking about before realising he’s referring to him! He quickly dusted himself off and tried to look more proper. Finally, he responds “I am no slave, my Lord, just a travelling companion. I was just admiring your many trinkets and wares.” Rad made a mental note of any valuable that would be easy to take.

“These are art pieces, boy, not trinkets.”

He couldn't help but notice how Minn's unpleasant face deformed even further, before turning his attention back to Flamthwynn.

Flamthwynn tried to hide his amazement at this man's riches and potential arcane knowledge. He stuttered “My specialty is... Health! Health of the body. Especially bodies- I mean people that are... Uhm... Unhealthy. I come here in search of knowledge of spells that might bring health to these... people.” He concluded his eloquent answer with a grin.

“Your service might be in high demand soon.”

“Poor people of Tenoch are unaware of the fate that awaits them, fools they are.”

“A savage tribe of cannibal barbarians has been raiding the village for months now. Gof the Old and his dimwitted son are way out of their league.”

“They think that they are safe just because there haven't been any raids for two weeks now.”

“Little do they know of their impending doom...”

Minn barely whispered the last sentence, and kind of just gazed through the window with glassy eyes.

Rad, hearing the opportunity for money, snapped out of his treasure gazing and remarked “Raiders huh, how many? Perhaps our mercenary company can be of service!”

Minn looked at Rad with renewed interest; almost as if new life was brought into him. “Mercenary company? Tell more!”

Trying his best to look and sound professional, Rad explained “We are the Hydra Company. Well renowned in Antil. With us is about a dozen well trained men, but if needed we can return to base and gather much more.”

“And, who is your leader? Flamthwynn, have you been concealing your identity?”

Unperturbed continued “The company is owned by several men and I know I aren't the best example of a fighter personality. I’m more of a marksman or specialist, but we have plenty of strong warriors. If you doubt us, you can ask Kegan or his daughter. They will surely vouch for us.”

“As for Flathwynn, we are barely acquainted, but of course he can speak for himself.”

Minn stroked his chin and leaned back in soft chair. “Interesting. Most interesting.”

“Oh, I do not mean to hide anything from you, wise colleague. I have only recently joined the company of these mercenaries, but can attest to their professionalism and ability!” Flamthwynn glanced at Rad with a hint of a wink, more of a playful squint of the eyes, trying to not be seen by Minn Almar.

“Perhaps we could protect this village on your behalf, it would be advantageous for all of us... I cannot speak for Hydra, but perhaps you could instruct upon me some of your wisdom in return?”

“Well if you speak so highly of them, then this poor village might stand a chance after all.” Minn spoke after several minutes of silence.

“Hear me well—you too boy—do not say a word of our conversation to the locals. They are superstitious lot, and could react to their detriment.”

“I have a secret location a mile from here. Can you meet me there in three days, so we can discuss our plan of action?”

“Time is of the essence.”

“Absolutely. I shall convene with the rest of the company, and give you an answer as soon as I am able.” Flamthwynn gets up with a look of determination, though inside he was thinking “Oh god what am I getting myself into.”

Rad gives his best impression of an elegant bow and adult voice “Of course Milord, we will be there and battle ready.” He was already counting all the coin this guy will pay them.

Minn illustrated the meeting place as well as best path to it on a piece of parchment and handed it over to Flamthwynn. “Make sure that no one from Tenoch sees or knows you are heading there. And don't waste my time. I will wait until the sun sets, but no longer.” And then he awkwardly shooed them both out under the excuse that he needs to tend to some other matters.

Will the party go back to save Sinai and Eccy? Or will they find nothing but ground meat?

Player Session Reports

black_horror

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The Book of Lairs Vol. I & Vol. II Urban Encounters:

The_Book_of_Lairs_Vol_I_II

The Book of Lairs: Vale of the Iron God:

The_Book_of_Lairs_Vale_of_the_Iron_God.jpg

#Postbox #OSR #ACKS

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Adventurers

Character Class Description
Eccy Throi Elf level 1 Wears a dark green cloak to hide his bulging muscles and crippling anxiety.
Rad Thief level 1 A young, short and malnourished rogue.
Adkin the Butcher Fighter level 2 A hot headed warrior quick to fury trained by Marco Vitelli, retired quartermaster of the army of the Invincible Overlord.
Rhovar Fighter level 2 A generic Nordic guy.
Taegen Ianlynn Elf level 1 Tan skinned wood elf of magnificent physique. Doesn't hide it.
Sinai Cleric level 3 White-robbed beduin, worshipper of Bukera, The Silent Scorpion.

Warmshade 8th, Earthday

“What shall we do?!”

“Fire-bomb it!”

“Cast Light at its eyes!”

“Try to talk to it?”

The party was exchanging ideas rapidly, whilst a humanoid shaped fungal growth advanced towards them. It didn't seem to care too much what the adventurers had to say.

The party withdrew back into the tunnel they came from, and tightened their ranks. The fungi-man came close and lunged forward, both of its arms changing shape into a web-like sphere.

One of them landed, capturing an adventurer with a firm grip. At that moment, the creature's other arm shapeshifted once again—this time into a firm, ball-like sphere. The creature promptly proceeded to hammer the unlucky victim.

At this moment all brakes were off. One of the elves cast light on the creature's bulbous yellow growth, which they assumed to be eyes, while brave warriors Rhovar and Adkin jumped forth to rain fury.

Alas, Adkin was too eager, and sprained his ankle on the slipper cavern floor. Marco Vitelli would have had him flogged for such incompetence. Ariad, one of the retainers, was of cool nerves, and struck down the creature.

With the threat eliminated, our brave company was eager to investigate curious pods in front of them. Stepping forth they quickly discovered these were in fact two connected chambers, each some forty by forty feet and ceiling so high their torchlight barely illuminated it. A familiar stream was running through them, flowing southwards.

Around twenty human-sized pod-like shapes were hanging by thick stems from the ceiling. Each was suspended few feet off the ground. All but one were open; each reeked of rotten leaves and fish. The elves were as perplexed as humans.

Inspecting one didn't reveal much.

It was at this moment that the party opted for brilliant strategy of “we can investigate more of this cave if we split-up.” Sinai took Phelim “The Scorpion” and Norna “The Repulsive”, his trusty retainers, and went on to explore upstream.

Rest of the party focused on one unopened pod. It was hanging in the south-west corner of the lower chamber. Just behind it was a small nook. Adkin, having massaged his twisted ankle, carefully cut the pod's stem.

KLANK!

It fell to the ground with a loud thud, and bounced of like a plump watermelon. Unsure of what might lurk in it, the group surrounded it with malicious intent.

“Guys, what if one of the abducted peasants is in it?”

“Cut it gently then, I suppose?”

Taegen took to the knee, and approached this as a finely coordinate operation. He gently penetrated the pod with the tip of his blade, and then cut horizontally from top to bottom. Steaming pile of rotten sludge was his reward.

Simultaneously, Rad heard a clicking sound when the stem was cut. The source? A small compartment popped open in the alcove behind the pod. He snuck up to it, and then ransacked it. Two vials, one with metallic orange liquid and another with creamy, watery liquid.

The former had a pleasant appley aroma, while the latter had tarty, nearly citrusy smell. He carefully stowed them in his backpack.

The party fielded some interesting theories, but ultimately agreed that this sole creature wasn't the main culprit. Hence they decided to follow the path downstream, hoping it will connect to the narrow cave passageway they came from. And indeed they did. From there they went back to the chamber where they cut down nine deformed trees, and waited for Sinai's return.

The Cleric of Bukera, God of Desert Mountains, quickly found that the upstream path leads to the junction with wooden divider. It is fed by a waterfall, and it splits the stream into three paths: west, south, and east. He travelled the west when he came down for the first time; now he came to that place from the eastern passageway; therefore only southern remains to be explored. And so he went, and his acolytes followed.

Another chamber opened up after some time. The ceiling was ragged with the spiky points of innumerable stalactites. Part of the stream flowed into the middle of the room, forming a small pond. The far edge of it glowed with an eerie bluish light. Animals usually stay far away from bright colours—but Sinai is no animal.

Coming closer revealed that the edge of the pool was smeared with some sort of gooey substance.

“Norna, bend over and collect it!”

“No way! Do it yourself!”

“Okay then.”

The cleric bent over and pushed his left pinky into the goo. He was ecstatic to find out that his pinky now emanates glittery light blue hue. Next he soaked his whip, so it to glows. It made for a nice complement to his yellowish glowing boots, courtesy of small mushrooms he treaded on earlier.

Then he proceeded to pour out holy water from his vial, only to fill it with the phosphorescent liquid. With nothing else left to do, he took his team further downstream. That reunited them with the rest of the party.

Downstream they went, reaching another T-junction. Two streams joined into one at this point, flowing rapidly southwards at a fairly steep slope. This tunnel was more treacherous than all the ones they've travelled so far. Stalagmites and stalactites blocked the passage, leaving enough room for barely one person to navigate them at a time. There was no dry footing; all was slippery and wet.

Rhovar took nearly an hour securing the route. He staked an iron spike every ten feet, and then laid the rope, securing it at each point. This allowed even the least dexterous members to descend safely. They still had to watch their footing, but the chance of fatal fall was nearly nonexistent.

Another T-junction greeted them at the bottom. This time it split westwards an southeastwards. A desperate scream coming from the west interrupted the adventurers' planning meeting.

“NOOO! Let me go! NOOO! I beg you!”

Sinai the Hero led the charge, others soon followed—even the unnamed reluctant ones.

“NOOOOOO!” they ran fast enough to witness a macabre sight. Group of six fungi-men was firmly holding another human upside down. They held him above a large wooden apparatus. It was very similar to the one the party has encountered earlier, in which they found minced fish.

The man was yelling, desperately trying to set himself free, but the creatures' grip was unyielding. His grotesque ending was witnessed by all. The creatures pushed him into the device head first. Loud crunching sounds were intermingled with gut-wrenching yelps and pleas. The latter were outlasted by the former.

“Please save me!” loud female voice screamed.

“Don't leave me behind! Not like this! Not like this!”

Adventurers' torchlight was too weak to illuminate the whole chamber; their attention was laser focused on the atrocity that just transpired in front of them. Once they snapped out of it, they immediately found the scream's source. Just at the edge pf their light they could see two small cages.

Distraught woman was kneeling in one, pleading them to save her.

“My father is a rich merchant! He will reward you well! Please!”

“Oh, well, that changes everything!” Rad the Hero said.

Once again the party tightened their ranks, putting heavily armoured Sinai and Phelim upfront, while mighty warriors with long reaching weapons backed them from behind. Elves and Rad prepared their bows.

Fungal humanoids rushed them, but were forced to fight two by two. The party had successfully funnelled them to their advantage. Adkin's polearm worked overtime—he cut down four of the creatures. Rad was in his element, raining hell on all. No creature was left unscathed. Phelim, unlike his master, downed one as well.

A great tragedy struck mid-way through the fight. When the creatures closed in for melee, and Ehrman ran out of arrows, Eccy commanded him to charge in. The intent was to get the fighter to use spear from second rank, bolstering frontline's capability to dish out pain.

Not even the Gods know—except mayhap Mar Nod—what made Ehrman slip. But everyone had seen the result.

The warrior obeyed the elf, threw his shortbow to the side, and took out his spear. He pushed through his brethren, leading with the tip of his spear, ready to drive it through one of this ungodly fungal men. Alas, he lost his footing in the stream. Going down he tried to use the spear to balance himself, but ended up driving it through Phelim's heart instead. From behind.

“What... What have I done?!” he staggered backwards in disbelief.

“No... No! Impossible...” others pushed him backwards, as they finished the remaining monsters.

“No... No...” Ehrman was shaken to his core. Ariad, Rhovar, and Adkin tried to calm him with no success.

“Oh, thank Mithra you are here! I'm Merinthia. Please set me free before more of them come!” the screaming woman seemed to have regained her composure.

The chamber was some fifty by seventy feet. Surprisingly, most of it was dry. The stream terminated around the wooden contraption of doom. In fact, it seemed to power it somehow. There were four cages in total. One housed Merinthia, one a grumbling dwarf, and one a fighter named Ulster.

The cages were made of an elastic, yet firm, fungy substance. The party found it impossible to break, bend or cut. They was a small boxy affair, forcing the prisoners to sit on the ground in an uncomfortable position.

Ulster calmly explained how they found themselves here. Merinthia indeed is a daughter of a wealthy merchant, and she hired him, alongside several others, to protect her trading caravan. They were ambushed in the forest close to Bathdawn, and were taken down here. Since then, they were slowly taken away, one by one. Most were minced right in front of their eyes.

Merinthia shared similar detail, including the information that Thuskar, her most trusted and capable guard, was not imprisoned in the same cave. She is hoping that he has set himself free, and is looking for them.

The dwarf was entirely uncommunicative. He turned his back to whomever tried to address him, and merely scoffed and grumbled.

At one point a discerning adventurer noticed the cages are tied to the ground with some sort of discoloured vines. Unlike the cage, they were easy to cut. Strong-man Taegen quickly released the damsel; and she in turn threw herself in his wide elven arms.

“Oh, please take me to safety!”

Guiding her, Taegen retreated upstream, almost all the way to the T-junction.

“Here, have some food and a blade. That should help you free yourself.” Adkin three a short sword and some rations into the Grumpy's cage.

“Company!” Eccy shouted as his colleagues. He made a shocking discover following the northern exit—a chamber filled with pods and fungi-men. Eight of them to be precise.

Sinai, Rhovar, and Adkin rushed to his aid. They immediately swarmed the narrow tunnel. In doing so, they secured a tactically superior position, forcing the creatures to fight one by one while having to suffer three or more blows in return.

“Norna, get the blade from the cage with the mute dwarf and set Ulster free!” This time she did not object. Rad rushed to the fighter's cage as well.

Adkin cut down another fungal humanoid. Alas, its replacement quickly rushed in, and managed to capture Eccy Throi in its iron grip.

“AAAAAAGHHHHH!!!”

Norna unleashed an ear-piercing shriek.

Rad turned to her in confusion. Horror replaced confusion, as he realised that Norna was screaming because her right arm was ripped out from her shoulder blade. She staggered, cupping her gaping wound spurting blood, calling out for Sinai to heal her.

“What the fuck?!”

The dwarf in the cage was loudly gnawing on the arm, slurping and giggling. Once he finished with it, he grabbed the sword, and tried to cut himself loose, imitating what the adventurer's did earlier. He seemed quite clumsy.

“Ariad, get over there and beat that sword out of his hand!”

Norna's loud gaps and pleas were mostly ignored, sans Rad's quiet “I'm sorry...”

“Set me free and I'll grab her mace. Set me free and I'll bash these monsters.” Ulster said to Rad.

“And if you don't want to set me free, then I beg you to kill me right here, right now. Drive your sword straight through my heart. Anything, just not that machine!”

Ehrman, despite still being shell-shocked, managed to follow Taegen. The elf was now calming both the fighter and the damsel.

Ariad stood by the dwarf's cage, attempting to strike his hand whenever he tried to cut himself loose. So far the dwarf has cut the vines on one side of the cage.

Rad was almost done with setting Ulster free. Just one more tiny cut.

Eccy Throi was firmly in the creature's grasp. Behind it nine more stood. Sinai was brutally whipping them; entangling them. Rhovar and Adkin were stabbing at Eccy's captor.

Will they manage to fight their way out of it?

Or will they be fed to the machine?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

#Wilderlands #SessionReport

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Adventurers

Character Class Description
Sinai Cleric level 3 White-robbed beduin, worshipper of Bukera, The Silent Scorpion.
Rhovar Fighter level 2 A generic Nordic guy.
Adkin the Butcher Fighter level 2 A hot headed warrior quick to fury trained by Marco Vitelli, retired quartermaster of the army of the Invincible Overlord.
Rad Thief level 1 A young, short and malnourished rogue.

Later...

Character Class Description
Eccy Throi Elf level 1 Wears a dark green cloak to hide his bulging muscles and crippling anxiety.
Taegen Ianlynn Elf level 1 Tan skinned wood elf of magnificent physique. Doesn't hide it.

Eccy Throi's report linked at the end of the post.

Warmshade 8th, Earthday

Continued from session 24.

Sinai gripped the whip in his hand as three crooked, deformed trees slumbered towards him. Phelim “The Scorpion” stood next to his master, ready for whatever was about to happen.

It's been nearly four hours since they've entered this forsaken place. So far everything seemed natural; water made its way through the winding caverns and tunnels. And yet, what now stood in front of them was obviously unnatural.

Rhovar pulled Sinai back, taking his spot at the frontline. The party decided to fall back and tighten their ranks in the narrow tunnel. There, their four toughest warriors would slow down the trees, while the others would engage with missile weapons from back ranks.

It was a glorious ninety-second skirmish.

The trees slumbered after the party, with only one managing to catch up with them. The party filled it with arrows, to which it responded by battering Rhovar. Adkin was quick to abandon his bow for a polearm. He soon discovered a natural gift for felling trees. Rad's bow was working overtime—the only time arrows wouldn't be flying is when he was chucking oil flasks.

Indeed, the young thief has proven to be quite a lumberjack (and pyromaniac!) himself. Not even a minor slip prevented his barrage. Unfortunately, Ehrman wasn't as efficient. Although he tried his best, he knocked himself unconscious early on in the battle. To add insult to injury, once he came back to his senses, he somehow managed to get tangled with Norna “The Repulsive,” causing them both to loose precious time.

Like mindless drones, the mad trees kept coming after the party. And like mindless drones, the party felled them one by one. Last ones went down in blazing flames, courtesy of Rad “The Mad.”

By the time they finished, the dead blackened trees were pilled so high they started blocking the water stream. Worried they might get washed away, the party spent some time rolling them along one of the tunnels, allowing the stream to flow freely once again.

“Who are you and what have you done with these trees!”

A duo of buff elves surprised the party with their inquiry.

“These were no normal trees. They were hateful and assaulted us! We are here on a mission to help the good people of Bathdawn. Hail Hydra!”

The duo scanned heavily armed party and introduced themselves as Eccy Throi and Taegen Ianlynn. They claimed to be here on behalf of their master Rinendirlan Ælasyn, investigating something of great importance.

After some minor pleasantries, both parties decided to join forces in bringing an end to whatever evil lurks here. Indeed, once the elves have landed their hands on dead trees they knew something was amiss. All of them felt off. All nine of them emanated aroma of suffering. Something here was very wrong.

The chamber they found them in was some thirty by thirty feet. Glowing moss that hangs from the ceiling in long, frilled strands illuminated it with a blue glow. The stream flown in from the northwest and turned west, to the tunnel they came from. Three artificially made canals sprawled eastwards. Three earthenware pots were in each; they used to house the hateful trees. Now they lain crushed to pieces.

A dry corridor extended further east. This was perhaps the first dry piece of soil they've seen since descending into this cavern. Alas, it didn't extended that far. In fact, it led the party to another stream, albeit wider and louder. This one has flown from north to southeast, terminating in a loud, crashing waterfall.

This time the party decided to go upstream. Rad noticed a narrow passageway to his right. It was just wide enough to fit one person. Eager for some action—maybe due to the leftover adrenaline from the previous encounter—he asked fellow adventurers to tie a rope around his waist. That was all the security he needed to go explore the mysterious tunnels on his own.

Half an hour and one dead-end later, the Master Thief had found another exit. It required a bit of crawling, but what is that for our Rad? Nothing.

Another dry tunnel. And a surprise! Looking at whence he cometh from, Rad had seen a huge stone face carved into the stone wall. The narrow tunnel he came out from was actually the face's open mouth. The face itself looked barely humanoid; almost like a mockery of human features.

Unwilling to risk it further, he went back and informed the party of his findings. The party decided to further investigate the corridor Rad had found. Since the tunnels were so narrow, it took some time for all of them to crawl through. Luckily for them they were unmolested.

The tunnel they found themselves in extended north and east. It was eerily quiet; especially after listening to overwhelming sounds of rushing water for most of the day. Rhovar and Adkin went to investigate the eastern path.

There they found a chamber covered in blue-green moss and lichen. Some patches were more colourful than others. The warriors quickly found this was no regular cave. As they got closer to the moss, they felt a slight pull towards the center of the chamber. The iron piton they threw in there hit the ground... And then started to slowly rotate towards northeast.

That was enough to send the fighters packing.

Following the passageway northwards was no less surprising. This time the whole party advanced, only to encounter a chamber blanketed with minuscule, bulb-headed yellow mushrooms. The wood elves did not recognise them, but both thought they probably aren't poisonous.

But that was not all!

Rhovar noticed a fist sized rock levitating at eye-level slowly approaching him. It looked as if the rock was gliding through the air. Its features became more apparent as it came closer: it was a carven stone head, similar in style to the large stone face they crawled out from.

Rhovar and Adkin, our favourite fighting duo, took out a sack and charged the head. Their boots got covered with vibrant yellow paste as they crushed the mushrooms. The floating head offered no resistance. Unsure what to do with it, the party hammered the sack to the cavern wall using several iron spikes.

Stepping deeper into cave revealed a passageway sloping up. By now the whole party had bright yellow boots. Following the upwards path led them to another chamber. Yes, there was something surprising in this one as well.

As they approached the mouth of the chamber, their torchlight illuminated three human-shaped figures hanging from the ceiling. The elves recognised the shapes as pea-pods, but man-sized. The room reeked of rotten fish and vegetation.

A human shaped figure stepped from around the corner. It was covered in knobby fungi. Two large yellow bulbs stuck out from its hazelnut-shaped head. It outstretched its weird looking arms and shambled silently towards the party.

Player Session Reports

Crom_Damn_it

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Demon-Bone Sarcophagus (print, PDF, and map pack)

Demon-Bone_Sarcophagus

Demon-Bone_Sarcophagus_Player_Handout

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I've just picked up Woodfall, The Toxic Wood, The Haunted Hamlet & Other Hexes, and Willow from the post. Perfect timing for Halloween.

Woodfall, The Toxic Wood, The Haunted Hamlet & Other Hexes, and Willow

Hanuted Hamlet art prints

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For the last month and a half I've been scouring the web for peoples' favourite and most useful Dragon Magazine articles.

Once I've noted all the recommendations, I went through each magazine and skimmed it. This step was to mark the articles I'm curious about and would like to read closer, potentially implementing them in my game or simply reading them to become a better player and judge.

So, without any further ado, the 143 articles that made my reading list are:

  • Dragon Magazine 13 – Demon generation
  • Dragon Magazine 13 – How heavy is my giant
  • Dragon Magazine 13 – Notes From a Semi-Successful D&D Player
  • Dragon Magazine 20 – It's a good day to die
  • Dragon Magazine 23 – Random generation of creatures from the lower planes
  • Dragon Magazine 28 – The Politics of Hell
  • Dragon Magazine 39 – Good Hits & Bad Misses
  • Dragon Magazine 49 – Historical Names make for Better Games
  • Dragon Magazine 52 – Basic DnD points of view from the editors old and new
  • Dragon Magazine 52 – Knock, knock – The history of siege warfare
  • Dragon Magazine 53 – How to give disease a fighting chance
  • Dragon Magazine 53 – Some Universal Rules Making Your Own Campaign And Making It Work
  • Dragon Magazine 53 – Understanding Armory
  • Dragon Magazine 54 – Ruins Rotted & Risky, But Rewarding
  • Dragon Magazine 58 – Swords Slicing into a Sharp Topic
  • Dragon Magazine 59 – Gypsies A curse or a blessing or both
  • Dragon Magazine 59 – Make monsters, not monstrosities
  • Dragon Magazine 59 – Poison The toxins of cerilon
  • Dragon Magazine 63 – For the sake of change
  • Dragon Magazine 63 – Plan before you play
  • Dragon Magazine 63 – The humanoids – Goals and gods of the kobolds, golbins, hobgoblins, and gnolls
  • Dragon Magazine 68 – Weather in the World of Greyhawk – A climate for realistic AD&D adventuring adaptable for use in your world
  • Dragon Magazine 68 – You've always got a chance
  • Dragon Magazine 69 – Runes
  • Dragon Magazine 72 – Gems galore
  • Dragon Magazine 72 – The real barbarians
  • Dragon Magazine 73 – Non-violent Magic Items
  • Dragon Magazine 73 – The solo scenario
  • Dragon Magazine 74 – A player character and his money
  • Dragon Magazine 75 – All games need names
  • Dragon Magazine 75 – Beyond the rule book
  • Dragon Magazine 75 – The Nine Hells Part I
  • Dragon Magazine 76 – For NPCs Only – The Death Master
  • Dragon Magazine 76 – The Nine Hells Part II
  • Dragon Magazine 77 – Curses – Twenty good ideas for bad tidings
  • Dragon Magazine 77 – Tarot of many things
  • Dragon Magazine 78 – Mind Games
  • Dragon Magazine 78 – Spells can be psionic, too
  • Dragon Magazine 78 – The ecology of the mind flayer
  • Dragon Magazine 79 – Be aware and take care
  • Dragon Magazine 79 – Blame it on the gremlins
  • Dragon Magazine 79 – Magic resistance – What it is, how it works
  • Dragon Magazine 79 – The fights of fantasy
  • Dragon Magazine 80 – Five keys to DMing success
  • Dragon Magazine 80 – New charts, using the 5% principle
  • Dragon Magazine 80 – Who lives in that castle
  • Dragon Magazine 81 – Taking the sting out of poison
  • Dragon Magazine 82 – Rings that do weird things
  • Dragon Magazine 82 – Spells between the covers
  • Dragon Magazine 82 – Wounds and weeds
  • Dragon Magazine 87+88 – Beyond the Dungeon
  • Dragon Magazine 91 – Realistic vital statistics – A new system for figuring heights & weights
  • Dragon Magazine 91 – The Nine Hells Revisited
  • Dragon Magazine 93 – Short hops and big drops
  • Dragon Magazine 93 – The making of a milieu
  • Dragon Magazine 94 – An army travels on its stomach
  • Dragon Magazine 94 – Same dice, different odds
  • Dragon Magazine 95 – Credit where credit is due
  • Dragon Magazine 96 – What good PCs are made of – Play characters with more substance than statistics
  • Dragon Magazine 98 – Dragon Damage revised
  • Dragon Magazine 98 – Tailor-made treasure
  • Dragon Magazine 99 – A sharp system for swords
  • Dragon Magazine 99 – History of a game that failed
  • Dragon Magazine 99 – Tables and tables of troops
  • Dragon Magazine 99 – That's life in the big city
  • Dragon Magazine 101 – Charging isn't cheap How to make and fix rods, staves, and wands
  • Dragon Magazine 101 – For king and country An alignment system based on cause and effect
  • Dragon Magazine 101 – Plain it by the numbers A system for tailoring challenges to characters
  • Dragon Magazine 104 – Assessing, not guessing
  • Dragon Magazine 106 – The way we really play
  • Dragon Magazine 107 – A new loyalty base
  • Dragon Magazine 107 – Economics made easy
  • Dragon Magazine 107 – Revised reaction, loyalty, and morale tables
  • Dragon Magazine 107 – The six main skills
  • Dragon Magazine 107 – When the rations run out
  • Dragon Magazine 109 – Blades with personality
  • Dragon Magazine 109 – Fighters for a price
  • Dragon Magazine 109 – Giant-sized weapons
  • Dragon Magazine 109 – Locals aren't all yokels
  • Dragon Magazine 110 – Dragon Damage revisited
  • Dragon Magazine 110 – The Cult of the Dragon – Dracolich
  • Dragon Magazine 111 – Good stuff, for a spell
  • Dragon Magazine 111 – No campaign ever fails
  • Dragon Magazine 112 – Revenge of the Nobodies
  • Dragon Magazine 115 – Elven Armies and Dwarves-At-Arms
  • Dragon Magazine 116 – By Tooth and Claw
  • Dragon Magazine 116 – Hello Your Majesty Communication in history and fantasy
  • Dragon Magazine 116 – High Seas
  • Dragon Magazine 118 – A Hero's Reward
  • Dragon Magazine 118 – Gladiatorial combat in the AD&D game
  • Dragon Magazine 123 – The Mystic College
  • Dragon Magazine 125 – Armies From the Ground Up
  • Dragon Magazine 127 – In Defense of the Shield
  • Dragon Magazine 127 – Two Hands Are Better Than One
  • Dragon Magazine 133 – The Wild Warriors
  • Dragon Magazine 136 – A Room for the knight
  • Dragon Magazine 136 – Building Blocks, City Style – A city-generation system for fantasy campaigns
  • Dragon Magazine 136 – Fifty Ways to Foil Your Players
  • Dragon Magazine 136 – The Long Arm of the Law
  • Dragon Magazine 137 – Weathering the Storms – A new weather system for fantasy game campaigns
  • Dragon Magazine 137 – What's for lunch – A detailed hunting system
  • Dragon Magazine 143 – The Highs and Lows of Fantasy
  • Dragon Magazine 145 – A Castle Here, A Castle There
  • Dragon Magazine 145 – Bazaar of the Bizarre
  • Dragon Magazine 145 – Holding Down the Fort
  • Dragon Magazine 145 – Strongholds Three
  • Dragon Magazine 145 – Your Home Is Your Castle
  • Dragon Magazine 148 – Always Wear Your Best Suit
  • Dragon Magazine 150 – The Dragon's Bestiary – All life crawls where mind flayers rule
  • Dragon Magazine 150 – The Sunset World – In the realm of the mind flayers
  • Dragon Magazine 150 – Unspeakable Secrets Made Easy
  • Dragon Magazine 154 – All in the Family – Heraldry, politics, and feudalism in fantasy campaigns
  • Dragon Magazine 161 – It's sort of like a wand...
  • Dragon Magazine 163 – Magic Gone Haywire
  • Dragon Magazine 163 – Oops! Sorry!
  • Dragon Magazine 167 – Curses Are Divine
  • Dragon Magazine 167 – Just Give Me The Money
  • Dragon Magazine 174 – Bugged About Something
  • Dragon Magazine 179 – Something Completely Different
  • Dragon Magazine 184 – The 7 sentence NPC
  • Dragon Magazine 184 – The Referee's Code of Honor
  • Dragon Magazine 187 – The Wild, Wild Wilderness
  • Dragon Magazine 191 – Different Totes for Different Folks
  • Dragon Magazine 199 – Crude but effective – Simple tactics for humanoids
  • Dragon Magazine 200 – The Color of Magic
  • Dragon Magazine 201 – Seven Steps to a Successful Castle
  • Dragon Magazine 202 – Even Wilder Mages
  • Dragon Magazine 211 – Sight in the Darkness
  • Dragon Magazine 211 – The Ecology of the Dungeon
  • Dragon Magazine 216 – Paths of Power
  • Dragon Magazine 228 – Real Jungles
  • Dragon Magazine 234 – The Draconomicon – The lesser evils of the draconian undead
  • Dragon Magazine 239 – 101 Dirty Orc Tricks
  • Dragon Magazine 241 – Al-Quadim The Roof of the Wolrd – Yak-Man Homeland
  • Dragon Magazine 242 – Mage Construction
  • Dragon Magazine 242 – The Laws of Spell Design
  • Dragon Magazine 243 – Enchanting Weapons
  • Dragon Magazine 252 – 101 Hauntings
  • Dragon Magazine 271 – Creating Word Puzzles for Your AD&D Game
  • Dragon Magazine 271 – Riddles of the Rhyming Sphinx
  • Dragon Magazine 282 – Logic Missiles
  • Dragon Magazine 284 – Run For Your Lives How To DM A Dragon
  • Dragon Magazine 330 – Enter the Far Realm

Now to print 'em, punch 'em, and then scribble into the margins... When I'm done I'll share which I've kept and which I've discarded, with a few sentences about each.

Got a recommendation of your own? Write to me to let me know.

#Resource #DragonMagazine

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Adventurers

Character Class Description
Brawley Dwarf level 1 Stocky, baldy, scimitar-wielding sea knave.
Mano Stern Cleric level 1 A dwarfish follower of Mesha, the Bringer of the Seasons. Blessed with almost supernatural ability to detect wickedness; cursed with a limp and clumsiness.
Norwell Thief level 1 A finely dressed slim fellow of few words. Carries the scar of betrayal.

Mano Stern's report linked at the end of the post.

Warmshade 8th, Earthday

Gods weave the strands of destiny as they please; and what is pleasure to them rarely makes sense to the mortals of Wilderlands.

A dwarf pirate left for dead on an island whom managed to survive on a diet of coconuts and rats.

A man of faith whose body fails him, seeking what he does not yet understand.

A thief hiding the wounds of double-crossing underneath noble's clothes.

Which deity brought the unlikely trio will never be know, but the trail left by them perhaps will become a story of legends.

It was a hot day without a trace of shade. They saw the massive eagle-like temple towering over the city way before they even reached the Gates of Antil. The guards greeted them with enthusiasm, despite some members sporting a rather dishevelled look. They recognised the symbols of Mesha—a snow-covered twig with vibrant sprouting leaves—and were in good mood due to bountiful yield they've had this year.

“Lads, I'm taking you to the finest establishment in Antil, and getting you drunk!” Brawley rumbled.

“That is a kind offer, but I am short on coin.” Mano replied in a humble manner. Norwell was happy his status was honoured—of course he should be taken only to the best of the best.

“Worry not! It's on me!” the dwarf insisted.

Of course, having set foot in Antil for the first time in his life, he had to ask the locals for instructions. And so they headed off to the Seven Vultures inn at the docks.

Three streets were bustling with life, from street urchins running in giggling gangs to sun-tanned paddlers selling their goods to muscle clerics of the Windgod engaging into wrestling matches.

This richness of life was so captivating that Norwell failed to notice a child-like figure until it bumped into him—and ran away with his coin purse and set of thieves tool he kept in a sack!

Mano Stern, shocked by such villainy in broad daylight, immediately pursued. Norwell followed. Brawley, dressed in plate, panted heavily far behind them, but followed none the less.

They ran after the child through narrow alley ways, leaving the chatter of life behind them. The houses here were so tight that barely three men could walk side by side. Pumped with adrenaline, the trio barely noticed the lack of life and unusual quietness about the place.

“There he went!”

Mano pointed at at ramshackle stone building sandwiched between two larger buildings. The wooden door were slammed shut, and there were no windows. It seemed to be a one story house. Once the dwarf caught up and rested, the party was ready to go in.

The doors revealed a staircase going down what seemed to be a cellar of the building. The sun barely penetrated into the building, revealing a wide sofa opposite the entrance. Lighting a torch they descended.

It was a musty room, quite wide. There was a door to the right of sofa, and a wooden chest and glass cabinet to the left of it. No child was in sight.

Mano stood in the centre of the room, providing valuable light. Norwell carefully inspected the doors, finding nothing, but picking up a heavy smell of rum emanating from behind. “Surely a trap!” paranoid Brawley muttered.

Glass cabinet intrigued the dwarf. Visual inspection revealed that it is suspiciously flush against the back wall. Applying some force to it led to yet another discovery—the cabinet rotates around single vertical axis, and opens up into another corridor.

Mano's torch barely illuminated it, revealing three doors alongside it: two on their left and one the right. Dwarf picked up on the shoddy construction of the whole place, and the fact that corridor actually slopes downward.

Arranging themselves in a single file rank, the party cautiously checked door by door. First to their left was stuck; second was locked; first to their right opened up.

It's been nearly three hours since they reached this point. Brawley was at the edge of his wits; Norwell was convinced that this is some sort of thieves den and they should get out as soon as possible; Mano was the only calm one.

Seeing nothing but three beds and two small round tables was enough to send the dwarf into the rage. He rushed in, yelling and cursing, stabbing each bed with unadulterated violence. A weak whimper was heard from the second bed.

“Show yerself, ye scum!”

Flipping the bed revealed a freshly perished child-sized figure lying on its belly, coin purse and thieves tools right next to it. Kicking it over made others exhale a sigh of relief—it was a nasty goblin, not one of the street urchins. But the dwarf wasn't finished yet. He cut off its head and kicked it around the room.

“What do ye think about dis, cleric!”

“The seasons come and go, such is the cycle of life.”

Mano Stern was not to be disturbed easily.

The room had little else to offer. But the locked doors still beckoned them. Although they've proven themselves to be too much of a challenge to Norwell's lockpicking skills, combined strength of Mano and Brawley was enough to knock them open.

Another two small beds, a wooden chest, and a small roundtable with weird looking lamp sitting on top of it. The dwarf focused on chest, while the thief and cleric inspected the lamp.

The chest held a curious assortment of skulls, bones, and flagstones. Brawley moved them around with his scimitar, finding an iron stick on the bottom. He braved picking it up. It was indeed a rusty iron stick.

The lamp looked rather exquisite in its make. Although it seemed no precious metals were used to craft it, the shape was complex. It resembled a spiral, almost as if someone took a piece of wood and twisted it like a liquid in some unnatural shape, and then froze it. It felt both natural and alien at the same time. Mano put it in his backpack.

Having had enough of this rotted cellar, the party decided to head out.

It was still day, and the alley was still devoid of life. Well, mostly devoid of life. An ebony skinned figure dressed in plate mail was leaning against the building, whistling an unfamiliar tune. Its bald head was protected by a neat white turban.

“Oh, have you found anything of value inside?”

The trio was perplexed.

“You, yes, you!” the figure insisted, pointing figure to the party.

“Have you found... The magic sword?!”

“Oh come on, you surely found something? A little coin for me to keep my mouth shut?”

Last request hadn't landed to well with the dwarf, causing him to brandish his bloody sword at the extorting person. The man retreated back and whistled loudly. Three drunk men tried to run forward, but were constantly tripping and stopping to catch their breath. Brawley recognised his own ilk.

Few well thrown rocks and witty insults were all that was needed to send the pack fleeing and reeling.

“Where can we sell this lamp?”

It didn't take much asking around to learn about the Walled Bazaar, where all kind of wares trade hands. They reached it within an hour or so.

“Wait, I wanna rub it first... Cover me...”

Brawley gently held the lamp while Mano and Norwell stood guard. The retreated to one of the side alleys leading the famed marketplace. The dwarf felt warmth and could sense the craftsmanship required to make such a lamp. He rubbed it gently. No djinni came out of it. But something else happened. He noticed a faint flicker of light. Whenever he rubbed it for a minute or so, the lamp seemed to flicker for a second.

“Boys, this requires further investigation!”

The party proceeded to rent a room at King's Arms tavern. Without chronicling all the details of their bedroom shenanigans, it is sufficient to say they figured out how to rub the lamp the right way for it to emanate a bright white light.

One of the gods laughed.

Player Session Reports

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