IRON DM 2017 Tournament

Wow! I was literally shaking until I got through to the end of the judgment, and probably for a good while after that (and to be honest a good chunk of the preceding week leading up to it!). I had a feeling it would be close; I had guessed correctly that Iron Sky would win on Loaded Dice and Crude Map (though more on the map in a bit), and that I would win on Convergence of Clouds and Fairy Tale (if for no other reason than the timing issues mentioned), but I had no clue how the other three would go, as they were all fairly subtle in "Deep Crude" and 2 of the 3 were subtle in my own, and beyond that I had no idea how Rune would actually even interpret their usages (he actually interpreted both differently than I had intended, once I think to my benefit and once to my detriment, though I'm not sure how much of a difference either would have made ultimately). "Deep Crude" certainly made far more clever use of ingredient synonyms, while I mostly played them straight, which contributed to how nerve-wracking it was. All in all, though, I think of all of my Iron DM entries so far this is the one I'm the most proud of. It wasn't perfect; I had to compromise (pun intended) on the clarity of some of the ingredients to fit the word count. I could have cut out some of the setting flavor text, but I feel like establishing that tone was pretty important to the overall adventure (as well as tying into the Fairy Tale ingredient, ultimately). Rune is right though; this is my first Round 2 win. In fact, the last time I made it to Round 2 was two years ago when I lost... to Iron Sky! I'll admit it feels pretty good to take the rematch

This adventure formed around two pairs of ingredients that were both extremely fortuitous for me. The first pair was Convergence of Clouds and Loaded Dice. See, my partner had just given me Volo's Guide to Monsters for Christmas, and I've been slowly making my way through it. I had just read the section on giants and had recalled that Cloud Giants were venerate gamblers (and even were fine with subterfuge and cheating, so long as they don't get caught). The other pair was Crude Map and Fairy Tale. I've been DMing exclusively in Eberron for years now, and I'll confess that I've always wanted to write an Eberron adventure in one of these tournaments (past entries have certainly borrowed themes and tropes from the setting, from non-evil, close-to-nature orcs to airship races); and specifically I've always wanted to write something set in Thelanis, Eberron's more fairy-tale-inspired counter to the Feywild. My first though when I saw Crude Map was similar to Iron Sky's: oil. Then I thought, you know what essentially serves as oil as an economic driver in Eberron? Dragonshards. I knew it was a stretch (hence why I hedged my bets with the childlike drawings on the map later), though earlier drafts tried to be way too specific about it (I think there was a line about the map leading to a horde of "crude, unrefined dragonshards"). I still felt pretty good about how I ended up using the ingredient, but I don't think I was going to be able to top its use in "Deep Crude" anyway.

As for my other three ingredients, my intended use of Harbinger was the Gathering Storm. I didn't have enough space to make it totally clear, but the idea was that the Crystal Keep's cloud was the first to appear on the horizon, but as more cloud giants arrived (and thus more clouds drifted in) the converged cloud would get larger, more stormy, more ominous. The map was supposed to be the clue that the cloud was headed in a direct path to the Somnolent Citadel (because they could watch it moving), likely spelling doom for the Expanse unless it could it be stopped. My actual intention for Compromised Position was actually probably weaker than what Rune settled on; it was the idea of Zeckran and Aughra getting caught in the middle of their affair (I had actually thought Iron Sky used the ingredient in much the same way, with Isaiah and Hadrian getting found out; I had pegged his Harbinger for the first assassin attack, that clues Isaiah in that Hadrian was probably in danger too). Fatal Flaw was admittedly a late decision; though I was happy with how it turned out, all things told. I had actually thought it was a pretty clever use of the word Flaw (probably my biggest and really only twist on an ingredient, unless you count the dragonshards as "crude", which you probably don't ); a personal flaw leading to a downfall seemed to me to be the direct and obvious interpretation of the term.

Anyway, some additional stuff and clarifications now that I'm not limited by word count:
*The travel by thought wasn't meant to actually be taken literally, but rather a function of the dream logic of the Expanse (where you just suddenly seem to be in a new location). How I'd run it is probably that they'd be talking to an Eladrin at the Spries, and then suddenly find themselves in the Citadel with the Prince greeting them mid-sentence.
*Something I'd do if I were concerned about my players missing the Spires/Citadel (and thus learning the actual stakes) would be to only have locations become drawn on the map once they become aware of them. So spotting the Spires in the distance would have them drawn on the map (in real time); then the Citadel once they learn about it from the Spites; then finally the Storm when the Prince lays out the stakes. This has the side-effect of making it much more linear, but my players have tended to prefer that. It also makes the map more central; if the location isn't on the map they can't get to it.
*I'd probably add another location or two, just to establish the tone and the setting, before the PCs get to the Spires.
*My first draft actually did contain a beanstalk, but I thought that was a little too on the nose (also, beanstalks as a rule grow out of the ground and are therefore sedentary, while the nature of the cloud moving is pretty critical to the plot). Though I suppose fairy tales dance gleefully on the nose. Perhaps the clouds could currently be passing through a massive beanstalk field that exists for... reasons. It's no less convenient than "Look! Random tame griffins!" I suppose. Ultimately, I thought the aerial fight would be more fun and exciting than trying to swat away manticores while climbing. My players are all mostly big Dragon Age fans too, so riding on griffons should be big fun for them.
*This is my first Iron DM entry that I'm probably going to run myself. I'm starting up a HotDQ-in-Eberron campaign soon, and I'll probably slip this somewhere in the On The Road chapter (they'll be passing through the Eldeen Reaches, so the timing works out, and a big part of the cultists' plot is gathering dragonshards, so that should pique their interest). It'll also get to foreshadow Cloud Giants and their floating castles, which I've decided work a little differently in my version of Eberron (specifically through Mabaran necromantic rituals that are what got both these giants as well as Blogothkus banished) (oh yeah I just decided these giants were banished to Thelanis but probably don't even realize it).

Gradine said:

Wow! I was literally shaking until I got through to the end of the judgment, and probably for a good while after that (and to be honest a good chunk of the preceding week leading up to it!). I had a feeling it would be close; I had guessed correctly that Iron Sky would win on Loaded Dice and Crude Map (though more on the map in a bit), and that I would win on Convergence of Clouds and Fairy Tale (if for no other reason than the timing issues mentioned), but I had no clue how the other three would go, as they were all fairly subtle in "Deep Crude" and 2 of the 3 were subtle in my own, and beyond that I had no idea how Rune would actually even interpret their usages (he actually interpreted both differently than I had intended, once I think to my benefit and once to my detriment, though I'm not sure how much of a difference either would have made ultimately). "Deep Crude" certainly made far more clever use of ingredient synonyms, while I mostly played them straight, which contributed to how nerve-wracking it was. All in all, though, I think of all of my Iron DM entries so far this is the one I'm the most proud of.

Click to expand...

As well you should be! It's still a bit fresh in my mind, but I'm fairly certain I'll look back on this entry as your best, so far (no expectations for your next one!) It'll make the anthology, for sure.

It wasn't perfect; I had to compromise (pun intended) on the clarity of some of the ingredients to fit the word count. I could have cut out some of the setting flavor text, but I feel like establishing that tone was pretty important to the overall adventure (as well as tying into the Fairy Tale ingredient, ultimately). Rune is right though; this is my first Round 2 win. In fact, the last time I made it to Round 2 was two years ago when I lost... to Iron Sky! I'll admit it feels pretty good to take the rematch

Click to expand...

Congratulations!

This adventure formed around two pairs of ingredients that were both extremely fortuitous for me. The first pair was Convergence of Clouds and Loaded Dice. See, my partner had just given me Volo's Guide to Monsters for Christmas, and I've been slowly making my way through it. I had just read the section on giants and had recalled that Cloud Giants were venerate gamblers (and even were fine with subterfuge and cheating, so long as they don't get caught). The other pair was Crude Map and Fairy Tale. I've been DMing exclusively in Eberron for years now, and I'll confess that I've always wanted to write an Eberron adventure in one of these tournaments (past entries have certainly borrowed themes and tropes from the setting, from non-evil, close-to-nature orcs to airship races); and specifically I've always wanted to write something set in Thelanis, Eberron's more fairy-tale-inspired counter to the Feywild. My first though when I saw Crude Map was similar to Iron Sky's: oil. Then I thought, you know what essentially serves as oil as an economic driver in Eberron? Dragonshards. I knew it was a stretch (hence why I hedged my bets with the childlike drawings on the map later), though earlier drafts tried to be way too specific about it (I think there was a line about the map leading to a horde of "crude, unrefined dragonshards"). I still felt pretty good about how I ended up using the ingredient, but I don't think I was going to be able to top its use in "Deep Crude" anyway.

Click to expand...

I think you're right about that.

As for my other three ingredients, my intended use of Harbinger was the Gathering Storm. I didn't have enough space to make it totally clear, but the idea was that the Crystal Keep's cloud was the first to appear on the horizon, but as more cloud giants arrived (and thus more clouds drifted in) the converged cloud would get larger, more stormy, more ominous. The map was supposed to be the clue that the cloud was headed in a direct path to the Somnolent Citadel (because they could watch it moving), likely spelling doom for the Expanse unless it could it be stopped.

Click to expand...

I am somewhat embaresses to say that I actually had the stirmclouds-as-harbinger called out in my notes, but somehow it never made it over to the judgement while I was writing. Which is kind of a shame, because it is a better use than what I did point out. Maybe still not as good as Hadrian, but, I dunno. Maybe it was. It's a moot point and I don't have to think about it anymore.

My actual intention for Compromised Position was actually probably weaker than what Rune settled on; it was the idea of Zeckran and Aughra getting caught in the middle of their affair (I had actually thought Iron Sky used the ingredient in much the same way, with Isaiah and Hadrian getting found out; I had pegged his Harbinger for the first assassin attack, that clues Isaiah in that Hadrian was probably in danger too). Fatal Flaw was admittedly a late decision; though I was happy with how it turned out, all things told. I had actually thought it was a pretty clever use of the word Flaw (probably my biggest and really only twist on an ingredient, unless you count the dragonshards as "crude", which you probably don't ); a personal flaw leading to a downfall seemed to me to be the direct and obvious interpretation of the term.

Click to expand...

Don't get me wrong. What you did worked well enough. It just would have been better if it had done both. When I come up with these types of ingredients with high potential for thematic integration (which character or personality traits almost always do – although not exclusively), I'm not looking for an obvious and clichéd interpretation; I'm hoping for a nuanced and layered one. I'm giving the competitors a chance to add a layer of dimension to their ingredient-tapestry that they can hang an adventure on. It's a challenge to see who's got the skill and inclination to take me up on the offer.

It's a tricky thing to do well, but it has the potential to reward a contestant very well, because, if it works, it means the ingredients and the adventure are inherently woven together. But that's just one thing you can do. A good use of an ingredient will be a good use, even if I would have tried to do something different with it.

Anyway, some additional stuff and clarifications now that I'm not limited by word count:
*The travel by thought wasn't meant to actually be taken literally, but rather a function of the dream logic of the Expanse (where you just suddenly seem to be in a new location). How I'd run it is probably that they'd be talking to an Eladrin at the Spries, and then suddenly find themselves in the Citadel with the Prince greeting them mid-sentence.
*Something I'd do if I were concerned about my players missing the Spires/Citadel (and thus learning the actual stakes) would be to only have locations become drawn on the map once they become aware of them. So spotting the Spires in the distance would have them drawn on the map (in real time); then the Citadel once they learn about it from the Spites; then finally the Storm when the Prince lays out the stakes. This has the side-effect of making it much more linear, but my players have tended to prefer that. It also makes the map more central; if the location isn't on the map they can't get to it.
*I'd probably add another location or two, just to establish the tone and the setting, before the PCs get to the Spires.
*My first draft actually did contain a beanstalk, but I thought that was a little too on the nose (also, beanstalks as a rule grow out of the ground and are therefore sedentary, while the nature of the cloud moving is pretty critical to the plot). Though I suppose fairy tales dance gleefully on the nose. Perhaps the clouds could currently be passing through a massive beanstalk field that exists for... reasons. It's no less convenient than "Look! Random tame griffins!" I suppose. Ultimately, I thought the aerial fight would be more fun and exciting than trying to swat away manticores while climbing. My players are all mostly big Dragon Age fans too, so riding on griffons should be big fun for them.
*This is my first Iron DM entry that I'm probably going to run myself. I'm starting up a HotDQ-in-Eberron campaign soon, and I'll probably slip this somewhere in the On The Road chapter (they'll be passing through the Eldeen Reaches, so the timing works out, and a big part of the cultists' plot is gathering dragonshards, so that should pique their interest). It'll also get to foreshadow Cloud Giants and their floating castles, which I've decided work a little differently in my version of Eberron (specifically through Mabaran necromantic rituals that are what got both these giants as well as Blogothkus banished) (oh yeah I just decided these giants were banished to Thelanis but probably don't even realize it).

Click to expand...

I thought of gating off parts of the map that way, too, but I like the idea of keeping that part as a sandbox to really heighten the sense of wonder.

As for the beanstalk: (super)naturally, it would have to grow very quickly, from magic beans.

Rune said:

Don't get me wrong. What you did worked well enough. It just would have been better if it had done both. When I come up with these types of ingredients with high potential for thematic integration (which character or personality traits almost always do – although not exclusively), I'm not looking for an obvious and clichéd interpretation; I'm hoping for a nuanced and layered one. I'm giving the competitors a chance to add a layer of dimension to their ingredient-tapestry that they can hang an adventure on. It's a challenge to see who's got the skill and inclination to take me up on the offer.

It's a tricky thing to do well, but it has the potential to reward a contestant very well, because, if it works, it means the ingredients and the adventure are inherently woven together. But that's just one thing you can do. A good use of an ingredient will be a good use, even if I would have tried to do something different with it.

Click to expand...

Yeah, that makes sense. It's finding where the line is between "layered and nuanced" and "stretched thin and watered down". I think the difference is obvious but the line between them perilously thin. I perhaps erred too much on the side of caution on this one.

I thought of gating off parts of the map that way, too, but I like the idea of keeping that part as a sandbox to really heighten the sense of wonder.

As for the beanstalk: (super)naturally, it would have to grow very quickly, from magic beans.

Click to expand...

This also makes sense. Maybe add a sub-quest to track down the beans? Too high a level and they could just as well have some other means of flight, however (when I run it my party will probably be only level 4, which should certainly emphasize the "do not make the giants hostile" nature of the Crystal Keep).

IRON DM 2017 Championship Match: Deuce Traveler vs. Gradine

[MENTION=34958]Deuce Traveler[/MENTION] and [MENTION=57112]Gradine[/MENTION], you have 48 hours to post your entries to this thread. Please limit your entry to a title, a list of the ingredients used and 2000 additional words. Please include your list of ingredients at the beginning of the entry and please do not edit your post once it is submitted. Please refrain from reading your opponent's entry until after you have posted your own. You are on your honor to do so.

Entries that are between 1 and 59 minutes late will have their word-limits reduced to 1800. Later entries that are at less than 1 day late will have their word-limits reduced to 1400. Entries that are at least 1 day late will have their word-limits reduced to 1000. In addition, entries that are at least 2 days late may be disqualified at the discretion of the judge with consent from the match's opposing competitor. Entries that exceed their word-limits will be considered to end once they reach that limit; I will ignore everything after.

Your ingredients are:

Velvet Glove
Delusionist
Doppelgängers' Masquerade
Untrue Resurrection
Coastal Cliff
Charity
Un-coordinates
Mindless Drone

First draft is done, clocking in at 1970 words. These were some wicked ingredients, Rune!

Foxes in the Hen House
A solo adventure suitable for any supernatural system*

*Adjustments may be necessary depending on setting lore

Velvet Glove
Delusionist
Doppelgängers' Masquerade
Untrue Resurrection
Coastal Cliff
Charity
Un-coordinates
Mindless Drone

Hook
You received the letter a week ago. “I was wrong to cast you out,” it read. “Come to Henchilde Mansion, and claim your inheritance.” But the letter was not meant for you. It was meant for the man whose face you’ve been wearing ever since you dumped his body in Foxglove Lake. The cliffside mansion now stands before you, and you hear the waves crashing behind it as a dark storm approaches land. Soon, this inheritance will be yours.

The PC is a doppelgänger, who has recently murdered and taken on the identity of Liam Henchilde, a fastidious businessman with a skin condition and an obsession with cleanliness. He is never seen without his dark velvet gloves, and in fact all of his cloth-woven possessions, from his clothes to the upholstery of his furniture, is of a similarly smooth texture, so as to not irritate his sensitive skin.

Henchilde Mansion stands on a tall cliff overlooking the sea; the years of erosion have already uncovered the back foundations, and an old unused tower has already toppled into the sea, exposing the now sealed East Wing to the elements. The mansion’s owner is Alistair Henchilde, a wealthy patriarch who disowned his six children and cut them out of his will. The letters indicate his mind might have changed.

The children arrive one by one. The PC finds that their ability to read minds or detect thoughts is being hampered, somehow. At best, they are only able to pick up the most prominent surface emotion.

A sealed envelope on a table in the hall says “Open When All Siblings Have Arrived”. The letter inside reads:
Henchilde Mansion has housed our family for generations. I have divined that tonight is its last night upon this world, and I intend to go with it. Your inheritance is yours to uncover. You’ll have to work together, for once in your lives. And you’ll have to be willing to part with that which you value most. You have until the stroke of midnight, when the final wave will crash, ushering the downfall of our house.

The clock rings seven times. The doors and windows seal shut, and heavy iron gates cover them, too thin for even a doppelgänger to squeeze through. At the stroke of midnight, a massive tidal wave will come, knocking the mansion down a hundred feet into the sea below, killing anyone left inside.

Characters
Liam Henchilde - Eldest child, murdered and replaced the PC. Has extremely sensitive skin and germophobia.
Peregrine Henchilde - Eldest daughter, and a chess prodigy. Initial emotion: hopeful.
Evangeline Henchilde - Kind and caring, a black sheep of the family. Runs an orphanage. Initial emotion: worry.
Piers Henchilde - A cloistered academic, hates other people, who he views as idiots. Initial emotion: frustration.
Jenson Henchilde - A hypnotist and con artist. Manipulates others with magic. Initial emotion: amusement.
Cecilia Henchilde - Youngest, spoiled and pampered. Dotes on her toy poodle, Bernadette. Initial emotion: focused.

Alistair Henchilde
Alistair does plan to go down with the mansion, but he does not intend to die. Not for long, anyway. He hides in the basement, preparing a ritual designed the capture the souls of his six ungrateful children and with them, resurrect himself, earning immortality in the process. To that end he has hired a doppelgänger, Urdu, to murder and replace Cecilia, who was bid to arrive earlier than the others. He has told Urdu the secret to unlocking the East Wing, where his inheritance lives; the inheritance is the doppelgänger’s reward.

Alistair does not know that Liam was murdered weeks ago by the PC. This will complicate the ritual, and should the other four living children die, Alistair will die, and return as foul and twisted undead creature, hellbent for revenge on whomever ruined his ritual.

Urdu
The doppelgänger detests the dog, which itself seems uncomfortable in the creature’s arms. They will try to steer the other children into resolving their own tasks, then isolate and murder them, taking on their forms for a short while to throw off suspicion. They know nothing about Alistair’s resurrection ritual.

Henchilde Mansion
The first and second floors have glyphs hidden around the house to suppress magic, which the other children might use to uncover Urdu’s true identity. This has the side-effect of suppressing the doppelgängers’ mind-reading abilities and the magical abilities of the Henchildes who possess them. Alistair specifically excluded the magic behind the East Wing locks or the rituals designed to open them from these anti-magic fields. Marring two of four glyphs on a floor destroys the anti-magic field for that floor, allowing Jensen (hypnotism) and Peregrine (divination) to utilize their magic, and the doppelgängers to detect thoughts. Jensen’s magic is particularly helpful in tricking or coercing other Henchildes into performing their tasks, while Peregrine’s makes her dangerous to the doppelgängers.

If both doppelgängers are on the same floor where an anti-magic field is destroyed, they sense the presence of another doppelgänger within the house, but cannot discern its identity.

When a Henchilde (or a doppelgänger in their form) enters the room with the sacrifice meant for them, they (and only they) feel a strong draft and hear a dark voice whispering “One will betray you.” This will make the living Henchilde’s suspicious of each other, as well as less willing than they would normally be to give up what they cherish most.

Basement
Alistair is completing his ritual in the basement. Six crystals stand on pedestals in a circle, lines drawn between them on the floor forming a hexagram. One crystal glows for each Henchilde killed within the mansion.

There is no anti-magic barrier, so his thoughts can be detected. Alistair will hide if he senses anyone entering, and attack (and aim to kill) any of his children (including Urdu) who find him or attempt to disrupt his ritual.

First Floor
The following rooms are on the first floor:

Ballroom
A magnificent ballroom. Haunting music plays, though no one sits at the grand piano in the room’s corner. A secret passage to the basement is hidden under the piano.

Dining Room
A meal has been set, which remains relatively warm until the clock strikes eight. If the children decide to eat, Cecilia seems uncharacteristically interested in her meat.. Evangeline is a vegan, and the PC is aware that Liam was a vegetarian. Meat has been served on all plates. The PC must resist the urge to eat the meat, as well as stomach the potatoes and vegetables.

Kitchen
A large kitchen lies mostly empty; whatever dishes were used to cook dinner have been washed and put away already. A note hangs on the oven door:
Place what you cherish most inside.
Strong heat radiates from it. Only Cecilia, or a doppelgänger in her form, can open the oven door. Bernadette must be placed inside. Once done, one lock unlocks from the East Wing door. Urdu hesitates to do so, refusing at first. They’ll shove the dog in later.

Conservatory
Raised glass containers line the walls and center of the Conservatory, filled with all manner of exotic plants and flowers. At the opposite end from the door, a gorgeous, gold-trimmed mirror hangs on the wall above a table. Anyone who looks in the mirror sees their face, except with a long, ugly scar running diagonally across it. On the table is a shard of glass and a note:
Marr that which you cherish most.
Only Jenson, or a doppelgänger in his form, can lift the piece of glass from the table. He must carve a scar in his face similar to the one shown in the mirror. Once done, one lock unlocks from the East Wing door.

Lounge
This room has several chairs and couches, though they all have a coarse and rough upholstery. A fireplace is roaring along the wall. A note hangs above it:
Burn that which you cherish most.
Only Liam, or a doppelgänger in his form, can place anything within the fireplace. He must remove his gloves and toss them in the fire. Doing so willingly will make others suspicious of the PC. Once done, one lock unlocks from the East Wing door.

Second Floor
The following rooms are on the second floor:

Library
A library filled with countless books and treatises on any number of subjects. Piers used to love the library, but he, or a doppelgänger in his form, can hear a constant hum that drones on throughout the room. It is extremely unpleasant, and it makes him want to leave immediately. A note sits on a table in the center of the room:
This room will drain that which you cherish most.
Piers, or a doppelgänger in his form, must remain within the room for five minutes. He will need to be forced, coerced or trapped into doing so. The droning will steadily drain any creature’s intelligence, permanently. Spending five minutes will reduce Piers to the state of a dullard. Once done, one lock unlocks from the East Wing door.

Guest Room
The Guest Room is locked, and only Urdu carries the key to it. The lock can be picked or the door broken down, however. At the beginning of the evening it is unremarkable, save for Cecilia’s body, which has been shoved in an empty wardrobe. A relevant check (which Evangeline can make, if necessary) reveals she has been dead several hours before anyone else arrived. As the night wears on, Urdu uses this room to lure Henchildes that have completed their tasks and store their bodies.

Study
The study is a cozy room with several comfortable chairs and tables. On one table sits a board of chess (or any other setting-relevant game of strategy) and a note:
Give up the title that you cherish the most.
Peregrine has never lost a game of chess in her life, and she is known as the “Undefeatable”. A chair sits at one end of the table that only Peregrine, or a doppelgänger in her form, can sit in. No chair sits on the other side, nor can it be placed. Peregrine must play first, at which point the opponent’s pieces move on their own. The opponent is quite terrible, and easily defeated by anyone, but Peregrine must purposefully lose to this opponent, by making the exact wrong play at every turn, a feat which requires considerable knowledge of the game.

Bedroom
Alistair’s bedroom is unremarkable, save that it contains multiple portraits of himself and his late wife, but no portraits of their children. There is another hidden door leading down to the basement through a false back in his wardrobe.

East Wing
The door to the East Wing is chained shut and magically reinforced: only by unchaining the locks can the door be opened. Once all five locks are unchained, a note appears on the door:
The only one who may open this door is the one who does not intend to claim its contents for themselves.
Only Evangeline, or a doppelgänger in her form, can open this door, but only if they have no intention of keeping the inheritance for themselves. Evangeline plans to donate the inheritance to the orphanage she works at. Urdu, and presumably the PC, will therefore be unable to open the door themselves. This development angers Urdu, which they take as a betrayal. They’ll force Evangeline to open the door, then kill her and any remaining siblings, then try to break into the basement to kill Alistair. They’ll then claim the inheritance for themself.

Survivors can escape out the East Wing, where the staircase to the former tower lies open the elements.

The inheritance itself consists of only two sheets of paper in an unlocked safe: the deed to Henchilde Mansion, as well as a deed to the Rothersford Estate far to the south, something none of the Henchilde children have ever heard of.

A Guilty Dance

Ingredients:
Velvet Glove
Delusionist
Doppelgängers' Masquerade
Untrue Resurrection
Coastal Cliff
Charity
Un-coordinates
Mindless Drone

For any DnD campaign, character levels 5-8.

Background: Two generations ago, a seafaring race of marauding tribes were united under a single chieftain named Warlord Skallagrim. Through the sheer force of his iron will he changed the culture of his people to gradually settle into a new kingdom based loosely upon the laws and structure of hereditary monarchies. This kingdom, Annwn, is now onto its second generation, and although it is militant, its leaders also appreciate formal dancing and music.

Part 1:

Annwn attacks settlements near the PCs. Attacks against the cities are mere raids, attempting to quickly damage warships belonging to the PCs' home government while stealing away as much wealth as possible. The strikes against the towns and larger villages are made in an attempt to hold territory. The PCs earn a reputation fending off these attacks. Although it's obvious that the invaders have the upper hand, a representative of Annwn makes an official request. The marauding forces will negotiate peace if the PCs are sent to Annwn for talks as part of the delegation. The characters are pressured to accept.

Part 2:

The delegation is taken by the enemy fleet to Annwn, a cold and constantly overcast land with few resources beyond forests and cattle. At the end of the voyage they are forced to wait in their cabins or are blindfolded as they reach their final destination. No outsider is to know the coordinates or location of where Annwn is ruled from. They finally arrive at Gull's Keep, an easily defended fortress set atop a coastal cliff. Here rules Warlord Skallagrim, a still-muscular man pushing sixty years of age. Although he has lost a step or two in speed, Skallagrim is a foreboding figure with an agile mind and incredible memory for names and details. Before the party meets with Skallagrim they are disarmed.

Skallagrim stiffly greets the diplomats of the delegation, though his manners change when introduced to the player characters. He warmly greets the heroes, makes an extra effort to get their names correct, and asks about them. He then insists upon their dining with him that night. At this point the players may be expecting a trap, but Skallagrim is truly delighted to have them as dinner guests, even forgetting slights during their first meeting. He asks about their exploits, and whenever one of the heroes speaks about a fallen comrade or vanquished enemy that fought with courage, Skallagrim stands and offers a toast to the dead.

Skallagrim explains his leadership style by taking off and showing a velvet glove. As long as his people obey his laws and pay their taxes, he has a soft touch when it comes to how they conduct their lives. The moment that they rebel, they learn that inside the glove is a strong fist. He has often had to use his fist, especially against possible coups against his rule. That is why he really brought the famous heroes.

During his recent invasions of their lands, Skallagrim heard rumors of several plots against him involving some of the more powerful tribes he rules. This concern caused him to halt the invasion. He wants the party's help in ferreting out the trouble. Should they refuse or fail, the invasion continues and the party will be imprisoned. Should they succeed, Skallagrim will pull his forces away and shower the heroes with wealth. If the despot is questioned on why he hasn't chosen one of his own people for the task, he becomes agitated, mumbling about different officers and nobles, and why each of them might secretly seek his downfall. His jumbled thoughts are a mess of guilt and conflicting memories. It's quite obvious that Skallagrim is somewhat deluded, suspecting betrayal from the smallest of things.

In discussion with the Warlord and his staff, the party discovers a history that strengthens the man's isolation and paranoia.

- He was married early on to a bard he once met at a tribal masquerade. Her name was Elgwen and she died on the battlefield. He blames himself for failing to save her. He has several variations of her last words to him.

- Elgwen's brother, Egvar, was a constant comrade and fellow tribal chief. Their friendship was poisoned after Elgwen's death, with Egvar blaming Skallagrim for the loss of his sister. Eventually, Egvar went into a barbarian rage while raiding with Skallagrim, forcing the man to kill his former friend in self-defense. The Warlord sometimes accuses Egvar of being suicidal and forcing him into the act.

- Skallagrim's heir and oldest son, Skall, became ill and died despite his vigorous health once his father established the loose kingdom. Many suspect he was poisoned. The Warlord rails about never finding tribe that sent the murderer. Skall's room is still kept as it was the day he passed.

- The second and only other known child, Skallar, disappeared three years after Skall's death. Skallagrim declared him a deserter and had all his possessions burned, and room emptied.

Part 3:

If the party agrees, each is given respectable clothes to wear and a suite. A tailor also is assigned to design a mask for each of them to wear at the coming masquerade. The masks are meant to hide identity, but show attributes the wearer wants portrayed, such as a smiling fox mask for cleverness and whimsy, or a toothy bear mask for someone ready for a fight. The wearers are expected to take up the aspects of the mask.

Other nobles of Annwn also arrive with their retinues. Each is here for the upcoming Elgwen Masquerade, a charity event held at the keep annually. Taxes are heavy on the poor, but during the masquerade, the richer families are expected to come and make hefty donations that will go to public works and fall festivals. It is to be a day of indulgence, and Skallagrim encourages competitions in wealthy donations from the powerful. Lavish donations result in purchased positions of influence and heightened political stature. Several notables quickly realize that the party has Skallagrim's ear and seek their influence during the days leading up to the masquerade, such as:

-Lady Jannaga, a recent widow and middle-aged beauty who cares nothing for Skallagrim, but seeks to marry herself or her daughter to him in order to bring her family into power. She hopes to leverage the marriage so that her son or a future grandson, can rule after Skallagrim's death. Ultimately, she would like to be the true power, but she would be content with a powerful political position for her son without spending too lavishly. She is willing to offer land in her territory or even herself if it gets her closer to ger goals.

-Lord Krag, head of one of the larger tribes and warrior of renown. He wants the heroes to spike the peace, since his forces have captured several important villages. He offers wealth and titles under his banner, and is willing to support the heroes as the new faces of government of those captured villages. Of course, he would give them their orders and expects obedience.

-Lord Hyggral, of an influential tribe set in their belief in the old ways. He would like to see Skallagrim's power reduced to more of a figure-head. He would be willing to work with the party to that end, so the tribes could recover their autonomy. He possesses ancient knowledge and items that may be valuable to the party.

Part 4:

Lord Skeen, a late-comer from a far-away tribe arrives two evenings before the masquerade. Lord Skeen's tribe were once the to Skallagrim, and are rumored to practice dark magic. The tribe has lost much since Skallagrim's ascension, but still hold much influence.. Lord Skeen has brought back Skallar, Skallagrim's lost surviving son and heir. Skallar is dressed very much in the style of his father, down to the velvet gloves. This brings much cheer and conversation into the grim keep, but Skallagrim looks pale upon the meeting. He removes a glove to shake hands and Skallar does the same. The next morning, the troubled Warlord summons the heroes to a private meeting.

That man isn't his son, Skallagrim explains. The reason why the Warlord and his sons started wearing the velvet glove as a symbol of governance was to hide the fact that Skallar was ruined his hands in an accident. This fake Skallar's hands were perfect. Besides, the Warlord knows Skallar should be dead, and his body hid in the crypts below the keep. He refuses to talk about how this came to be, but gives the party a crypt key and teaches them a tune that will keep a bone golem guardian at bay.

The party feels unsettled when they enter the crypt. Inside are stone tombs and carved busts dedicated to those loved by Skallagrim, such as Elgwen, Egvar, and Skall. A bone golem mindlessly patrols the tomb, but stops when within hearing distance of anyone playing the tune Skallagrim taught the heroes. The tomb is haunted by those wronged by Skallagrim, however, and spirits taunt and plead with the characters as they explore, attempting to disrupt any music being played, thus causing the bone golem to continue its patrol. If it encounters the party it will attack. Skallar's body can be found in a pickled barrel, in an unremarkable part of the crypt, his velvet gloves still on. A ghost of Skallar claims he was murdered by his own father and asks the party to build him a cairn or tomb for his remains, so that he may rest. When they return to Skallagrim to report, he breaks down and admits that he strangled his son in a fit of rage after Skallar talked of deposing him, and it was he that hid the body in shame of the act.

Part 5:

On the final day, the sleepless Warlord is even more haggard and paranoid. He mutters about seeing the dead in hallways and how they haunt him. The odd behavior of others in the keep are not helping the situation. During the final hours before the masquerade, the party witnesses several oddities:

-Skallagrim hints that he knows some of the nobles have approached the parties with offers in exchange for their aid. He is both curious and threatening.

-Some of the keep staff and visiting retinues have developed new and uncharacteristic habits, such as odd aloofness, giggling at unfunny subjects, or forgetting past conversations with the heroes.

-The bodies of several keep guard dogs are found dead, their throats torn out by something strong and clawed.

-Right before the masquerade, the party is approached by several staff members that wish to discuss rumors of a regicide plot in private. Once they isolate the party they turn into attacking dopplegangers. If the party is victorious, they go to the hall to warn others, but arrive as the dance is starting and the masked participants lost in the crowd.

Lord Skeen's retinue was made completely of dopplegangers that he has paid to assassinate Skallagrim and key leaders. If the party has decided to side with Skallagrim, or one of the tribal leaders, they need to intervene before the blood bath starts. This is made difficult as celebrators have masks similar to one another and the hall is packed with dancers. After a few rounds, the dopplegangers make their move, attempting to strike at select targets before swapping masks and forms and going back into the crowd to strike again. They take the forms of those Skallagrim feels he failed or feels guilty about, causing the powerful warlord to psychologically break instead of properly defend himself. If Skallagrim survives, so does his kingdom. Should he die, but another leader is helped and saved, the tribal leader keeps his or her promise. Should the PCs decide to aid Lord Skeen or stay out of the fight, a power vacuum occurs as most of the important masquerade participants are slain.

Judgement for IRON DM 2017 Championship Match: Deuce Traveler vs. Gradine

I don’t think we could have gotten two entries more starkly different in tone, style, and structure. And they’re both really good! I’m not really sure where to begin in examining the adventures, so...

I’ll just start with the ingredients:

I may seem a bit harsher than usual here, so I want to emphasize that I consider this list to probably be the toughest set I’ve ever put forth. The length of the list contributes to this, of course, but there are some other factors.

To begin with, astute (or even just literate) observers will note that two of the ingredients are composed of made-up words. These are meant to draw on the contestants’ abilities to creatively interpret them, but the words aren’t entirely meaningless; their components suggest one or more definitions.

Another two ingredients are superficially mundane, but have high potential for thematic application. That sets up the possibility for the authors to play with different layers for the ingredients. So that’s fun.

Finally, the blending of mundane ingredients with far more fantastic ingredients can also be quite tricky, because it is very difficult to give the former the same prominence that the latter naturally evoke. Mundane objects complicate this, because they can very easily be turned into Macguffins in the process of giving them prominence.

Velvet Glove. This one checks a couple of those boxes. On its surface, it is a mundane object – and both entries use it as such. In “Foxes in the Hen House” (“Foxes”), the glove is part of a pair that allowed the hypersensitive Liam to physically interact with the world (and later become a sacrifice). Interestingly, their importance is complicated by being a necessary part of the PC’s ruse, which guarantees that they remain relevant to the PC. Of course, there’s no real reason Liam needed to be hypersensitive in the first place, but it works.

“A Guilty Dance” (“Dance”) uses the ingredient as a physical representation of Skallagrim’s leadership style, which echos the colloquialism whence the ingredient comes. However, the significance of the rulership style never really manifests noticeably in the adventure; instead of hanging the ingredient over the PCs throughout by making a theme of it (except where it falls into the general theme of wearing a polished veneer over a brutally uncivilized nature), it gets lost in the background among the other themes of the adventure. The ingredient is strengthened somewhat by also being a physical indicator that something is amiss with Skallar’s return. All in all, though, it never has the direct relevance to the PCs that the ingredient maintains throughout “Foxes.”

Delusionist. What is a delusionist, anyway? The suffix, -ist, converts a noun into a person who believes or practices that thing. What sets a delusion apart from an illusion is that the conviction with which it is held stands against superior contrary evidence, whereas an illusion creates belief based on inaccurate, incomplete, and/or misleading information.

In “Foxes,” the mentalist/hypnotist is more an illusionist than a practitioner of delusions. Other than providing the adventure with a wild card, these skills never manifest with much relevance in the adventure. Even his sacrifice seems only tangentially related, as it requires Jenson (or a doppelgänger duplicate) to mar his appearance.

Interestingly, “Dance” gives us a believer in delusions whose delusions seem accurate (but that, in itself, does not mean they aren’t delusions). This ingredient is very much the crux of the adventure; it moves the action and creates a lot of the conflict – and complicates all of it. Skallagrim’s delusions should definitely be apparent and whispered at among the courtiers to be played to full effect. The PCs will never know what to believe, so they pretty much have to find out for themselves. Well done.

Doppelgängers’ Masquerade. Other than as a manifestation of the ongoing civility-masking-savagery theme, there doesn’t seem to be much reason in “Dance” for the social gathering to be a masquerade. The addition of the doppelgängers does add an exciting (and horrifying) dimension to it, though. It works as an ingredient and it definitely makes the adventure more fun.

“Foxes” builds the ingredient into the premise for the entire adventure. This is an inherently stronger use for it and makes it the entry’s strongest.

Untrue Resurrection. This is kind of a theme in “Foxes,” in that the doppelgängers perform their own untrue resurrections on the people they murder, but the whole point of the adventure (for the villain, Alistair), is to perform a ritual that will resurrect him into immortality – but this ritual is doomed from the very beginning to fail and turn Alistair into a twisted undead! Clever and fun!

On the other side, “Dance” provides a doppelgänger version of Skallar. This spurs the PCs into a portion of their adventure and is clearly relevant, but suffers from the fact that nobody but Skallagrim actually knows that Skallar is dead in the first place (and that includes the doppelgänger portraying Skallar). It works, but it just can’t compete with “Foxes.”

Coastal Cliff. Neither entry uses this ingredient especially well. Both set their adventures in structures upon it. “Dance” leaves it at that. “Foxes” at least hinges the finale on it, even though any other type of destruction would have worked just as well. Still, as an impending doom, the ingredient looms over the entire adventure, so that’s really not bad.

Charity. This one is another seemingly mundane ingredient with heavy thematic overtones. Both entries opt to just use the mundane interpretation.

In “Dance,” this further fleshes out the civil facade-themes of the adventure by being attached to the masquerade. But its relevance to the adventure past that point is entirely nonexistent.

“Foxes” uses the ingredient as one of the keys to the inheritance. Interestingly, it is the only sacrifice that is made in advance of the adventure (and willfully, at that) – assuming Evangeline hasn’t been replaced by a doppelgänger. It certainly isn’t central to the adventure, but is still stronger than “Dance.”

Un-coordinates. Another made-up word. This one is a little more difficult to infer a definition for, because coordinates has different meanings on its own. On one hand, un-coordinates might refer to a location that doesn’t exist, like some place outside of space and time, or somewhere that’s been devoured by the Nothing. On the other hand, it might refer to the act of unravelling a coordinated effort. Or something.

In “Dance,” we have a location that is a secret, which is a bit of a stretch, but given the fact that the ingredient doesn’t have a real definition, I’ll take it. The problem is, the secretive nature of the location doesn’t really play a role in the adventure (other than to keep anyone from finding it in Part 1 and to make sure no one from the PCs’ homeland can rescue them if they are imprisoned).

Whereas, I’m not even sure what is supposed to qualify in “Foxes.” It could be the property that is doomed to sink into the sea. Or the deed to same.

A stronger use is, I think, unintended (based on the complete lack of references to it), but my policy is not to care if something is intended or not – only whether or not it is present. In this case, the PC has an inherent role as a disruptor of Alistair’s carefully laid – and coordinated – plans for his ritual. And this un-coordination is something that the PC is engaging in (knowingly or not) throughout the whole adventure. Intentional or not, it is a very strong use of the ingredient.

Mindless Drone. In “Foxes,” this is the intelligence-sapping noise in the library. As with all of the sacrifices, it has some direct relevance to the PC and the adventure, but, also as with all of the sacrifices, the thing that each NPC holds most dear is pretty arbitrary – and, hence, replaceable. But it does make for a fun and colorful scene. (Slight tangent, here, while I’m thinking about it: I find it curious how some of the sacrifices are much worse than others; there is a big difference between intentionally losing a chess game vs. being permanently feebleminded!)

In “Dance,” the mindless drone is the bone golem. The encounter (or lack thereof) is amusing and likely to be memorable, but it really doesn’t have much of a reason for being down in the crypts in the first place. It does serve as a guardian of Skallagrim’s secret, but who made it? How does Skallagrim know how to bypass it? Whatever the answers to those questions, the adventure would be richer with them. I don’t think it is a particularly strong ingredient, but I do think it is a little more relevant to the PCs.

And what of the adventures?

The first thing I noted as I was reading them was how enjoyable that was (it isn’t always!). I kept getting reminded of literary (and other) influences and that kept making me wonder how much I would pick up as a player. “Foxes” has a healthy dose of The Fall of the House of Usher, a hint of Agatha Christie, with maybe a sprinkling of dinner theater thrown in.

“Dance” reminded me strongly of an Icelandic family saga, with a bit of Hamlet thrown in for good measure. And, of course, I couldn’t help but think of Durlag’s Tower from that Baldur’s Gate expansion.

Two completely different tones that make for two very entertaining adventures. They both offer quite a lot for the PCs to do, although much of the potential is implicit, which is probably more a byproduct of the word-limit than anything else.

Let’s look at some of the implications, though:

I’ll start with “Dance.” We are given the pieces of a potentially horrifying jigsaw puzzle and then set loose to see what picture emerges.

First, there’s Skallagrim, whose paranoia is justified and accurate, even while his perception can’t be trusted. Then, there’s the political adversaries, each a faction in their own right – and each susceptible to being replaced by a doppelgänger at any time. There’s the ghosts in the crypt – ghosts whose restless nature only validates Skallagrim’s guilt. I like to think that their pleading is for vengeance to be delivered upon Skallagrim.

Finally, there’s the doppelgängers, who have plenty of time by the climax to infiltrate any faction that they please. And then the Masquerade becomes a gruesome kind of Danse Macabre – chaotic and, if I’m seeing the emergent jigsaw-picture properly, horrifying.

“Foxes” keeps the doppelgänger-related intrigue much tighter in scope, but no less present. In fact, despite any kind of explicit reference, the adventure strongly implies that the PC will be body-swapping throughout the adventure, so much of the adventure will be figuring out how to open the locks that are attuned to the various meat-puppets (or letting them live long enough to figure it out themselves) while also isolating/allying with/murdering the other doppelgänger. All while avoiding detection, of course. Complex, but very compelling.

Both of these adventures would be tremendously memorable.

The hooks are a bit unusual, though. In “Dance,” the entire first part essentially serves as an extended hook – and by “extended,” I mean “likely a large chunk of the campaign needs to be devoted to setting up the adventure” (although it need not all be done at once). This has the potential to pay off in a big way, but it also means that adaptability takes a hit.

Meanwhile, “Foxes” has so unusual and specific a premise that it may as well be called out as a one-shot. The lack of reward kind of supports this, too. A deed to a mysterious locale nobody knows about might be fodder for a future adventure, but it makes for a somewhat unsatisfying reward in its own right. Then there’s the deed to the mansion that’s about to sink into the sea. In a one-shot, it’s easier to take a step back, consider all of the horrible things your character did to get to this point and say, “Yeah. It makes sense that I get screwed, here.” They aren’t material rewards; they’re just rewards.

The fact that it is a solo adventure makes it, perhaps, even more useable as a fill-in game; just pull it out when most of the group cancels for reasons. And, actually, I think it could work with a full-sized group if the GM did a kind of How to Host a Murder -type thing – assigning the players to various NPCs (keeping one or two as doppelgängers, of course).

Conclusion:

Ultimately, I find these adventures incomparable. They both excel at what the set out to do and neither has any glaring flaws. The judgement, therefore, must rest on the ingredients.

And “Foxes” clearly wins in that department. “Dance” has some good interpretations and ties them in pretty well. Against many an entry that would be enough. But what Gradine has managed to do with a very tough set of ingredients is present them in a relatively loose weave that is held together with a few strong threads that are present and relevant from start to finish.

Deuce Traveler, I don’t think this is your very best entry, but that’s only because I’ve seen you put up some truly magical stuff. This is still A-game material; it just happens that, this time, Gradine’s A-game edged it out. Which is something I’ve never accomplished (in three attempts), by the way.

I have no business offering you advice, so I won’t. The truth is, you are certainly the most accomplished player of this modern era, and possibly of all time. Even Vaxalon’s undefeated tournament record of 3-0 comes with an asterisk. No, I should probably be seeking advice from you, instead. Maybe next year, if we can coerce you into judging.

To all of the others out there who might think of these veterans as unassailable, I offer the following as a reminder that we all started from scratch:

Rune said:

At this point, I usually try to give the contestant who isn't advancing something to walk away with that is constructive, perhaps educational, and hopefully inspirational, but I don't think I have much in the way of advice for Gradine.

I was pretty impressed with both of Gradine's entries, particularly the subtle cleverness of the scenarios presented. You've already demonstrated an ability to weave your ingredients together well. I think if you can manage to do so just a bit more centrally (by which I mean "directly into the PCs' paths but not in a MacGuffiny way") into those aforementioned clever scenarios, you'll have a solid shot at winning one of these Tournaments.

Click to expand...

I am pleased to be vindicated in that assessment. Congratulations to Gradine, who defeats the defending champion to become the IRON DM 2017!

Congratulations!

Congrats!