Psudo-Eberron! Trains, Tribes, and Dinosaurs, Oh My! Updated 4/17

[ConnorSB]

So I am very excited about Ebberon. I really like the idea behind the setting, so much so that I started running a psudo-ebberon campaign based on the information that has been released.

Currently I am using my own blend of the rules that have been published in Dragon Magazine about Ebberon, the core rules, and rules of my own design (mostly extrapolated from the magazine). As for places and names, well, since the setting book isn't out, none of them are quite "correct", but I plan on doing some recatalogging once it arrives. In any case, the campaign starts at 4th level, and I will reveal the characters as they appear in the story.

To make things interesting, i actually started the campaign "after" the group had formed and had already taken part in a few adventures. Thier backstories, therefore, involved some ammount of working together, and include NPCs that the players had never met (but thier characters had).

The story (and the campaign) starts with the heroes fleeing the city of Arrat. They are on the wrong side of the law there, and so decided it was best if they took the Frightfalls Express to some of the other cities of the world, most of which are on the Plains of Rien, to try thier luck there (and hope that thier past doesn't bother catching up with them).

To that end, our story begins on a train, in a desert.

 

[ConnorSB]

The Frightfalls Express stormed across the desert’s barren landscape like a great herd of duck-bills, and with a sound twice as loud as their deafening hoot-crys. The train was a large construction, like a great snake made of steel plates and iron spikes, hundreds of feet long. Its joints were lined with spikes, its windows were inset into its metal form. To a dinosaur of any intelligence, this steel monstrosity was in no way edible.

Its passengers, however, were. Especially if they were standing on the roof of the train, as Mordos Vel’Halek was. He was a tall man, thick and muscular. His muscles rippled under his stylized, metal-plated vest, bulging from beneath it. Brown, oily hair shot out at all angles from his sun-marked face, a hard visage criss-crossed with scars. The hair continued down his bare chest, and was mimicked by the hairy, leathery animal skins Mordos wore for pants. A huge, bulbous morningstar was tucked into his belt. Its spiked metal head glistened in the sunlight like jagged tear.

Mordos stood there, on the roof of the elemental-driven train, with his arms open, looking to the train’s destination. He felt the raw power of the wind as it buffeted his face, chest, and arms. To the tribal warrior, sitting within the automaton below him was a stifling experience, one he was uncomfortable with. Mordos was much more comfortable here, beneath the open sky, naked before the elements and devoid of the trappings of civilization.

Civilization. He hated that word- he spat at it. And yet- the cities had so much more to offer him than the village he was born in. They were at once a swollen pestilence on the natural lands and a new, exciting environment, full of smells and sights and all manner of creatures, natural or not. Perhaps this was their charm- like the humans that populated them, the cities were not quite natural, but not devoid of nature. Perhaps Mordos could learn to call them home, if his companions could ever decide to settle down in one. Far be it from them to do something so simple as stay out of trouble with the authorities. Oh well.

Mordos looked out ahead of him. The first few cars of the train stretched in front of him, and past them was the great engine. Inside, so his companion Birin had told him, fire elementals were magically chained to special mechanisms that transformed their fiery rage into locomotive power- the train’s movement. The noise of the engine came from that process. The loud bursts of sound were magical byproducts of the transformation of power, pent up and then released. As well, so Birin had told the warrior, the bursts frightened away wild dinosaurs, who would have a hard time attacking the metal train, but an easy time slowing it down when they stayed too long on the tracks and were run down.

He surveyed the landscape around the train. Around and behind him, the desert expanse was flat and endless, save that the city of Arrat sparkled like a jewel on the horizon directly behind the train.

Ahead were the Mountains of Fire, where the flames of the deep earth rose up and spewed into the sky. Although the sky around him now was clear, a black cloud always hung over the mountains ahead, and soot rained from the sky like a fine, choking mist. Or so Mordos was told. These mountains were not their destination, but to arrive at the fertile Plains of Rien, the train had to cross the Mountains.

“Hey!” a voice called out behind the warrior.

He turned to see Birin emerging from the train. The fat man had some trouble when his blue robes got caught on the ladder, but he managed to get onto the roof without falling.

“Birin, my friend! How do you like the wind?” Mordos asked, extending a hand to his compatriate.

“Its much cooler up here than inside the cabin, but it’s much harder to eat. Come on back down, our food is here.”

“All right.”

The train’s whistle blew once, then again a few seconds later. Birin looked ahead of the train to see a cloud of dust just starting to rise from the sands.
“Look!” He pointed, and Mordos followed the line Birin’s finger made. He also saw the cloud, and saw below it the cause- dozens of figures mounted on 2 legged dinosaurs, riding parallel to the tracks. In perhaps a minute, the train would pull alongside the herd of men and beasts.

“Go. Down. NOW.” Cried Mordos. He and his friend hussled to the ladder and down into the train. Without the wind buffeting their ears, they could hear the yells of the passengers.

“Bandits! Oh gods, bandits!”

 

[ConnorSB]

Sitting in a window seat, the warforged saw Mordos and Birin rushing through Car Four towards itself and the two others in their party, Axon and Ferra. Gears turned in its metal cranium as it processed the cacophony around it. The train’s whistle blew unendingly, passengers called to one another of “Bandits!” and “Where are the conductors?” and Mordos growled his way down the aisle to the seats across from the warforged, Birin close behind. Pistons pumped, interpreting the sounds of Mordos’ voice.

“There are bandits about a minute up the tracks, and we are fast overtaking them. About 20 or 30, all mounted on raptors. Besides the conductors, we are probably the most able-bodied people on the train. Suggestions?”

Ferra, the slight elven knife fighter the warforged called Mistress, spoke to the whole group. “There are innocent people on this train, women and children. I won’t stand for ruffians to hurt them. Warforged,” she looked at it, “do these windows close?”

The gears in its mind turned, a tulmult of magic and mechanics dredging through the events of the past, processing them, and served an answer to its central mind- “Yes mistress, they have metal shutters activated by… that button.” It drew up a hand, pointed at a glass encased press-button on the wall at the end of the car.

Just then a disembodied voice crackled into the car, distorted by a thrum of magic that let the conductor speak to the entire train.

“Passengers, we are about to be attacked by brigands. Do not fear, however. Pressing the large button at the front of your car will cause metal shutters to slide over your windows. It may get a little hot inside the car, but its better than bandits crawling in. A weapons-trained conductor will arrive in each car shortly, and will protect you in case of a breach. As well, more conductors will guard the roof entrances. The train is equipped with multiple magic protections, which should be enough to deter or prevent attack. But as a precaution, all passengers should remain calmly and quietly seated while the employees of the Frightfalls Express do their work. Thank you for your time.”

The voice crackled away, and the front door of the car swung open. A Conductor stepped through, crouching to keep his nine-foot tall body from scraping the ceiling.

The Warforged searched his electri-arcane memory for a description matching this individual. It was a grey humanoid, hairy, and dressed in an ill-fitting blue uniform. It wore a similar blue hat on its misshapen head, and its long pawed hands nearly dragged on the ground before it. Magical energy swirled in the warforged’s mind, and he found a word to match the Conductor.

Ogre.

 

[caixa]

"Warforged,” she looked at it, “do these windows close?”

The gears in its mind turned, a tulmult of magic and mechanics dredging through the events of the past, processing them, and served an answer to its central mind- “Yes mistress, they have metal shutters activated by… that button.” It drew up a hand, pointed at a glass encased press-button on the wall at the end of the car.

The voice crackled away, and the front door of the car swung open. A Conductor stepped through, crouching to keep his nine-foot tall body from scraping the ceiling.

The Warforged searched his electri-arcane memory for a description matching this individual. It was a grey humanoid, hairy, and dressed in an ill-fitting blue uniform. It wore a similar blue hat on its misshapen head, and its long pawed hands nearly dragged on the ground before it. Magical energy swirled in the warforged’s mind, and he found a word to match the Conductor.

Ogre.

This is great. Nicely written, with great detail, brings forth mental imagery worthy of Johnrog, Old Drew Id, and Ledded. Congrats, ConnorSB - you have a reader.

Looking forward to reading more, and if the Eberron setting is as sweet as you write it, I'll sign up!

Peterson/Caixa

 

[ConnorSB]

This is great. Nicely written, with great detail, brings forth mental imagery worthy of Johnrog, Old Drew Id, and Ledded. Congrats, ConnorSB - you have a reader.

Looking forward to reading more, and if the Eberron setting is as sweet as you write it, I'll sign up!

Peterson/Caixa

Whoa! Thats high praise! I dont think I'm that good, but I'm really enjoying writing this story- and I haven't even gotten to a fight scene yet!

As for Eberron, I'm hoping just as much as you that it rocks silly. I and my players really enjoy that sort of fantasy/action-adventure style, and I really hope the setting book pulls it off. From what I've seen and read, it looks promising.

And even if I don't agree with some or all of it, I can still just mine the book for ideas/places/characters/whatever.

I'll try to write some more soon,
Connor

 

[ConnorSB]

I just picked up the Expanded Psionics Handbook! Now the setting will become... even closer to Eberron! And I will update sometime later today, possibly including some character stats.

PS: I've been using Cordell's Mindscapes for Psionics thus far, and from the looks of it, the Mindscape combat system meshes quite well with the new Expanded rules, so I will probably keep using it.

 

[ConnorSB]

Axon, who had thus far been silent, gasped when he saw the Conductor. It was not the ogre’s size- he had seen the great brutes before. It was viewing the thing’s mind that surprised him.

In a place beyond the normal conscious mind, Axon stood waist deep in a shallow ocean. Looking down, he saw not the frail human body that wheezed and ached on the physical plane, but what he liked to call his paragon form, the shape of his mind made manifest as a psionic avatar. He was himself, but well muscled, handsome, with his brown hair cascading long and thick down to his waist, rather than being the few patches his mortal form held. And other things were different about him. In this place, this hyperconscious sea, he glowed with an inner light, orange as the dawn.

Perhaps a dozen feet away stood the Conductor’s paragon, the phantasmal water swirling around its hips. The ogre’s mind manifested itself as a literally blank form- a naked, genderless humanoid of average height, weight, and build, without hair or eyes or any face at all, skin so white it was almost blinding to look at the paragon. Once Axon’s metaphysical eyes adjusted to the purity and intensity of the Conductor’s avatar, he could make out fine black runes crawling across the thing’s skin, little black lines that shook and wove about like caterpillars.

The thing saluted him, an in an instant the waters had drained away, the avatar had disappeared, and Axon was back on the train, staring at an ogre.
“Hey,” it said. “Anybody hit de button yet?” It reached a paw out and, smashing through the glass, slammed the button into the wall. Things groaned within the trains walls, and metal plates began sliding across the windows. Axon looked out the window, trying to get a glimpse of the fast-nearing bandits before the coverings slid all the way across. Then he noticed something.

The plate wasn’t sliding anymore. The window was still exposed.

“Uh, Conductor,” he cried. “I think we have a problem.”

There was a cacophony of thunkings as the rest of the windows closed, and the car dimmed significantly. But light still poured in from the last, broken window. People looked about, but almost every eye settled on the uncovered portal.

The keening wail of a velociraptor’s scream echoed through the ghostly silent Car Four. The glint of steel flashed across the panicked faces inside the car. The bandits were upon them.

 

[caixa]

Perhaps I should assume no update?

Peterson

 

[Tumakhunter]

Yay, more Eberron stuff!