humble minion
Legend
Well, nobody's ever claimed I'm the most original guy in the world. And with RotK recently out, I've got Lord of the Rings on my mind and with it one of my favourite bits from the book - the barrow-wights. So, behold the Barrow King! Bear in mind I'm by no means an expert on the history and cosmology of Greyhawk, so it more than likely I've mucked up various details here. Hopefully you can tweak it to fit canon if you decide it isn't too far out of sunc with your vision for the campaign, or the druidic council.
As long as anyone, even the most ancient treant, can remember, the Barrow King has always been on the Druidic Council. And he has always been called the Barrow King. But a king he is not.
When the Ur-Flan first learned magic and turned to the worship of dark beings, they were not the only humans to dwell in the Flanaess. Far out in the wilderness lived scattered remnants of a past age of men - pagan, animistic tribesmen, skinclad and tattooed, living off the land. They were strong in their own way, but when the armies and sorcerers of the Ur-Flan came to expand their empire, the tribes were not stong enough...
He who is now the Barrow King was the chief druid of his tribe, the diviner, weatherworker and spirit-talker. His were the births and funerals, the hunt ceremonies and initiations, the blessings and sacrifices. He had inherited his position from his mentor, who in turn had inherited the wisdom and power of his station through generations uncounted. In turn, as age caught up with him, he too would pass his duty to the earth and the spirits on to his acolyte, to continue the cycle. But this was not to be, for one day he returned from a short journey to a holy place to find his entire tribe slaughtered by the Ur-Flan.
Grieving bitterly, he performed his last obligation to his tribesmen - with hand and magic he raised great barrows, and laid the warriors and people of his tribe to rest for eternity, the shattered weapons of their enemies at their feet. From here his duty was clear - the Cycle must continue. But the Ur-Flan were everywhere, the tribes were dying and the remnants turning from the veneration of the spirits of the earth to the worship of gods. There was no successor to train. The Cycle had come to an end.
None now of the Druidic Council know whether the Barrow King chose his own fate, determined that even with the extinction of his way of life the ceremonies would be performed as usual, or whether it was thrust upon him by some artifact that, perhaps wrought by the eternal leshay, refused to let its wielder die. For although he died, he somehow lived on, hideous, hollow-eyed, withering and deathless. For uncounted years he has faithfully guarded the barrows of his kin, performing the correct ceremonies at the turning of the seasons, placating the spirits of the earth, and growing wiser in the ways of nature with every passing century.
The presence of the Barrow King on the Druidic Council would be undoubtedly questioned - druids not being known for their sympathy for the undead - were it not for two facts: firstly, he still, undeniably, wields the power of a druid in the favour of the Earth, and secondly, he has always been there - even the eldest elven druid remembers hearing the tales of the 'dead druid' in his initiate years, and tradition (and inertia) are powerful. For his part the Barrow King is a massive storehouse of experience and knowledge of the natural world, and many of the council have sought his input on a mystery or conundrum in the past. While deeply intimidating and somewhat alien to druids of the modern world, none doubt his wisdom.
The Barrow King is fundamentally very conservative. He holds to a grim survival-of-the-fittest philosophy that makes some younger, more idealistic druids a little queasy. The highest duty of a druid, he believes, is to act as an intermediary between the earth and its denizens, performing the ceremonies and giving counsel. Bolo, however, seems to spend his time gallivanting all over the multiverse picking fights with ludicrously powerful extraplanar beings. While he sympathises in principle, he cannot abide the neglect of ones congregation for such adventuring pastimes. Hence his challenge for the leadership - it's not use slaying dragons if you're not making sure the seeds will sprout, he will say. He is unimpressed by claims of impending doom - after all, he's lived through the Invoked Devastation, the Rain of Colourless Fire, and dozens of other cataclysms. Even through pain, the world will survive, like a blackened forest sending up fresh green shoots after a wildfire. Such is the Cycle.
I'm not going to stat him out here - though if you're interested in the concept then I'll be happy to have a go. I'd probably make him something like a human barbarian 1/druid 17 with Ravenloft's Ancient Dead template at rank 3 (or 4, at the outside). Probably drop the disease touch, give him a celestialesque Aura of Menace instead of Despair, and give him a couple of interesting salient powers, perhaps Passage{/i] and Animal Control - vermin swarms (a bit of a bending of the rules, but it's cooler that way). Deck him out like an ancient Celt with spear, leathers and bronze mask and crown, give him a wagonload of Knowledge skills and some feats to make use of his ludicrous Str, and there you go...
Regarding the actual contest, I'm not sure I can help you much. Perhaps make it in a perilous location (cliff edge, waterfall, cave complex, volcano) or in a massive wilderness arena to give an advantage to the contestant who uses the terrain best. And it goes without saying that anyone who damages trees and wildlife with random Flame Strikes and Ice Storms probably isn't the best candidate...
As long as anyone, even the most ancient treant, can remember, the Barrow King has always been on the Druidic Council. And he has always been called the Barrow King. But a king he is not.
When the Ur-Flan first learned magic and turned to the worship of dark beings, they were not the only humans to dwell in the Flanaess. Far out in the wilderness lived scattered remnants of a past age of men - pagan, animistic tribesmen, skinclad and tattooed, living off the land. They were strong in their own way, but when the armies and sorcerers of the Ur-Flan came to expand their empire, the tribes were not stong enough...
He who is now the Barrow King was the chief druid of his tribe, the diviner, weatherworker and spirit-talker. His were the births and funerals, the hunt ceremonies and initiations, the blessings and sacrifices. He had inherited his position from his mentor, who in turn had inherited the wisdom and power of his station through generations uncounted. In turn, as age caught up with him, he too would pass his duty to the earth and the spirits on to his acolyte, to continue the cycle. But this was not to be, for one day he returned from a short journey to a holy place to find his entire tribe slaughtered by the Ur-Flan.
Grieving bitterly, he performed his last obligation to his tribesmen - with hand and magic he raised great barrows, and laid the warriors and people of his tribe to rest for eternity, the shattered weapons of their enemies at their feet. From here his duty was clear - the Cycle must continue. But the Ur-Flan were everywhere, the tribes were dying and the remnants turning from the veneration of the spirits of the earth to the worship of gods. There was no successor to train. The Cycle had come to an end.
None now of the Druidic Council know whether the Barrow King chose his own fate, determined that even with the extinction of his way of life the ceremonies would be performed as usual, or whether it was thrust upon him by some artifact that, perhaps wrought by the eternal leshay, refused to let its wielder die. For although he died, he somehow lived on, hideous, hollow-eyed, withering and deathless. For uncounted years he has faithfully guarded the barrows of his kin, performing the correct ceremonies at the turning of the seasons, placating the spirits of the earth, and growing wiser in the ways of nature with every passing century.
The presence of the Barrow King on the Druidic Council would be undoubtedly questioned - druids not being known for their sympathy for the undead - were it not for two facts: firstly, he still, undeniably, wields the power of a druid in the favour of the Earth, and secondly, he has always been there - even the eldest elven druid remembers hearing the tales of the 'dead druid' in his initiate years, and tradition (and inertia) are powerful. For his part the Barrow King is a massive storehouse of experience and knowledge of the natural world, and many of the council have sought his input on a mystery or conundrum in the past. While deeply intimidating and somewhat alien to druids of the modern world, none doubt his wisdom.
The Barrow King is fundamentally very conservative. He holds to a grim survival-of-the-fittest philosophy that makes some younger, more idealistic druids a little queasy. The highest duty of a druid, he believes, is to act as an intermediary between the earth and its denizens, performing the ceremonies and giving counsel. Bolo, however, seems to spend his time gallivanting all over the multiverse picking fights with ludicrously powerful extraplanar beings. While he sympathises in principle, he cannot abide the neglect of ones congregation for such adventuring pastimes. Hence his challenge for the leadership - it's not use slaying dragons if you're not making sure the seeds will sprout, he will say. He is unimpressed by claims of impending doom - after all, he's lived through the Invoked Devastation, the Rain of Colourless Fire, and dozens of other cataclysms. Even through pain, the world will survive, like a blackened forest sending up fresh green shoots after a wildfire. Such is the Cycle.
I'm not going to stat him out here - though if you're interested in the concept then I'll be happy to have a go. I'd probably make him something like a human barbarian 1/druid 17 with Ravenloft's Ancient Dead template at rank 3 (or 4, at the outside). Probably drop the disease touch, give him a celestialesque Aura of Menace instead of Despair, and give him a couple of interesting salient powers, perhaps Passage{/i] and Animal Control - vermin swarms (a bit of a bending of the rules, but it's cooler that way). Deck him out like an ancient Celt with spear, leathers and bronze mask and crown, give him a wagonload of Knowledge skills and some feats to make use of his ludicrous Str, and there you go...
Regarding the actual contest, I'm not sure I can help you much. Perhaps make it in a perilous location (cliff edge, waterfall, cave complex, volcano) or in a massive wilderness arena to give an advantage to the contestant who uses the terrain best. And it goes without saying that anyone who damages trees and wildlife with random Flame Strikes and Ice Storms probably isn't the best candidate...
Last edited:
