JoeGKushner
Adventurer
Part of what I've been messing with is hand-outs that I give to the players, let them read and then go, "What do you do." Does this work for people? The following are some examples from my Scarred Lands campaign.
Skragg
The stench is almost overwhelming at first. The smell of so many unwashed bodies presses hard against your nostrils. Only a slight breeze from the cavern opening that picks up the water from the underground pool prevents you from gagging.
The mass of bodies’ are centered on pits carved into the hard cold stone. The sounds of bones being shattered and blood splashing against the floor assaults your ears as the crowds boo and hiss, throw empty beer steins into the arenas and threaten worse with hoots and howls. Or perhaps those are merely the howls of whatever is dying in the pit?
The orcs, burly beasts with variations dark green skin to black skin, shamble creatures move towards the center arena where the main fight is to be held. Some of you shift about, uncomfortable in your hiding places while others sharpen your blades, waiting for the fight to begin so that you might strike and take your vengeance against the greenskins. The dwarves, the sons and daughters of those who died at the hands of the greenskisn, grin with an eagerness in their smile that’s almost frightening.
The crowd parts like a living sea allowing one man to step into the arena. His footwork is light and leaves no trail. His every steep one calculated to bring him one step closer to victory. At his hip a short sword rests tightly secured while his chest is crossed with bandoleers of sheathed daggers. His perfect teeth are framed in a scarred face with dark green eyes starting out at the world with an intense hatred. His short-cropped spiky black hair juts straight up from his head like tiny daggers stabbing against the sky.
Lave
The incidents of Skraag burn forth from your mind as you sit in the hot tub. The scented herbs flow into your nose, erasing the smell of blood and death that ingrained itself into your skin. Here the marble pool is cool and soothing, a work of craftsmanship in stark contrast to all of the ruin that lay in Skraag.
Even as you rise from the tub though and avail yourself to the finest cloths in Lave, you feel something was not right in the events. The orcs were too eager to disengage from the blood letting, too eager to allow you to escape. Almost as if they had more dire concerns on their mind. A force of over ten thousand orcs with something to worry about? That worries you.
There’s a knock on the door, but it’s soft, almost as if it were apologetic. “My lord, you are needed in the meeting chamber.”
As you walk through the hallways, hair still dripping wet, you find others from your company there along with members of the Veshian government. They do not look happy.
“Come my friends, sit.” The Vigilant command tries to put on a positive face but there is a grimness to his features that can’t be attributed to recent events in headquarters.
“We have reports on a number of things that we felt we should share with you.” You don’t recognize the man, but he’s obviously a member of the House Asuras. A corpulent little man with greasy black hair and dirty fingers. Beady dirt brown eyes shift all about the room as if seeking an escape.
“Well, yes…let’s start shall we?” He raises from his seat as if hoping that even with his short height, the mere presence of standing will allow him to loom over the rest of you.
“I have to be gone soon so I’ll make my report and leave. Here are things are they currently stand in the south by Calistia’s borders.
“First, the war torn country of Durrov has been harboring the former baroness Amelia and her son. Apparently the renewed spirit of fighting we’ve seen down south has been due more or less to Amelia’s Loyalist as much as the Soldiers of Fortune.
“Second, this infuriated Lady Bliss so much that she has taken her forces in a slash and burn campaign out of the country. This of course doesn’t come without its own cost. She’s lost quite a few of her members to desertion as they stay and help the country they’ve grown to love. It does however, prove the effectiveness of her private Black Legion, a force of warriors capable of killing almost anything in their way. Of special note is the Jackal, a wizard of no small waters. He’s been able to blast through Calistian Battle Mages and foolish Loyalist with equal ease. I don’t know what Bliss did to this former shell of a man, but he’s confident and wild in battle.
“What’s worse is that the Treants, who remember Bliss and her scorched earth tactics from the Divine War, have started to gather to determine what to do about her. This doesn’t count of course, the many Crimson Legionaries her units have slaughtered.
“Third, and perhaps most important for us, the recent roadblocks and other communication problems we’ve had with Mitrhil are just the tips of the iceberg.” The fat Asuras leans back into his silk covered chair, folding his hands together and clicking the tips of the fingers against one another.
“The true problem is that the plains have hidden a vast army of undead under the crusty ground, hiding from casual observation, striking without being followed. Slipping right past even the stealthy vigils and pious paladins.” He dabs the sweat from his brow with a silk handkerchief, quickly drinking some of the fine spiced white wine with trembling hands, the wine sloshing just a bit over the edge.
“These monsters… they launch from the darkness with strength beyond counting. Only a few caravans have been able to make any journeys recently. Take for example your own tour of the Bridged City. Didn’t you notice how empty the roads were? Didn’t you notice that the traders and merchants only came out in numbers when an army moved with them?
“And you never thought to question it did you? You and your simple minds.” He slams the glass down, his hands clenching so tight that the glass shatters sending small rivulets of blood to the table.
“Minister, that’s enough. House Asuras or no House Asuras, you’ll remember you’re place here as a guest.” The commander’s tone is clear and crisp, leaving no doubt as to whom wields the power here. Or at least who wields the power here this moment.
There’s an intense burning hatred in those beady eyes for a moment but the little man merely smiles and nods his head meekly, holding out his cut hand for one of the maids to bandage. “Indeed commander. You’re quite correct. I apologize if I’ve overstepped my bounds. You see, unlike others, I’ve lost more than mere treasure in these times. My son was one of those who didn’t make it back to Lave this time.” Without a backward glance, he flicks the blood to the floor and walks out of the room.
The command sighs. The weight of leadership crushing him like an iron vice. “What’s worse, what he didn’t say, is that he managed to escape only with the aid of magic. A magic that he always meant to buy for his son, but always thought it would be best to do so another day because the gold could be spent somewhere else. Still, it’s not his fault, it’s the fault of the vigils and the paladins who allowed this situation to get this far. At least, to him it is.” He shakes his head with disgust, waving away another of the maids whose anxiousness to serve her lord is obvious.
“What the Asuras failed to mention is that the undead are in full force now. They’ve taken several of the watchtowers on the Corridor and even now are preparing to march on and destroy the last bastion of light between Mullis Town and Mitrhil. Why they havent’ simply wiped Mullis from the face of Scarn is anyone’s guess but at this point, I’ll take any concession I can from the enemy.
“What we of Vesh need, and why Bliss claims to have started her cut and burn retreat from Durrov, is that we need to reinforce that tower. The Soldiers of Fortune who are here, and those who serve the light of Corean and all of the gods of order and justice, must reinforce that last tower If the lines of communication are cut off, if this vital artery of trade is lost, all of Scarn stands to lose.”
The Offer of Bliss
As she walks in, heads turn. Her pale blond hair streaks out behind her like a living thing even as it caresses her slender face. Her pale eyes shine like two blue diamonds so great in their intensity. Her frame is bound in fine plate armor that flows more like a second skin then armor capable of withstanding the blows of titans. Her crimson cape billows out behind her, flapping in the same wind that whips her hair about.
Her blood red lips stand out in stark contrast to her pale flesh as she speaks. “You who recently hail from Mitrhil, I would offer a bargain to you.” She purrs.
“In exchange for vowing not to ever raise swords against my guild, the Soldiers of Fortune, I will offer you power.” Even as some shift uncomfortably about, she raises a hand to halt any protest.
“Do not think that I have forgotten or forsaken those who’ve worked for me so long nor so willingly. It’s important to remember however, that in serving me, you’ve also been serving yourselves. You’ve gained tremendous power and prestige. Even those of you who’ve been mere assistants to my greater plan, like the monk and the vigilant.” Her smile is enough to shake the will of strong men and bend weak men to their knees.
“Each one of you has skills and abilities that grow as you use them. However, magic can surpass a normal man’s learning curve. I’ve commissioned tomes to augment your abilities if you agree to leave my soldiers alone, come what may.” You think you see a twinkle of mischief in her eyes for a second, but it’s gone before it can register in your brain.
Gatsu towers above the woman, seemingly unafraid but you can see his hand open and close as if in preparation for a great battle he knows is yet to come. “Your soldiers you say? Fair enough. I’m not worried about some mercenaries who’d only get in my way.”
He plants his huge two-handed sword blade first in the ground in front of Bliss. “What I want to know, if what about you? Will this contract protect you Bliss?” Not a handsome man or one whose charisma would lead the masses to victory, his smile nonetheless is an intimidating sight.
“Why would I ever need to fear such as you?” There’s a dangerous gleam in those pale blue eyes that would terrify a lesser man but Gatsu, standing over a foot above Bliss, is unimpressed.
“Then the answer is no. We are always free to attack you.” The words come out through gritted teeth and the clash of personalities is obviously wearing on Gatsu.
“Indeed. Why not? If nothing else, it’d provide a brief minute of sport or two.”
“Now here is the offer. You will be bound by me to not attack my army if you accept my gifts. Who among you will accept them?”
Gatsu unclenches both hands, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “I’ll take one.” Everyone is shocked by what he says next. “I need to augment my wisdom so that I can better my willpower.” Few would ever associate the berserk warrior seeking to augment his willpower if anything.
Enrin doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t know you False Lady but I know of you. I must decline your generous gift at this moment. Any soldier of yours that raises blades against my city will taste my power.” Enrin paused for a moment. "And the power of the Guild of Shadows."
For a second Bliss is off balance as if she struggled for something to say but she merely nods once. “Ah, not quite so chaotic as to abandon your city when it needs you eh Enrin? Good. I’ll insure that the Jackal gives you at least a run for your money.” Some of you shudder when you recall the Jackal, a broken man made whole only thanks to the power of the False Lady.
Bliss turns towards each of you. “What will your answer be? Empowerment or enslavement?”
Skragg
The stench is almost overwhelming at first. The smell of so many unwashed bodies presses hard against your nostrils. Only a slight breeze from the cavern opening that picks up the water from the underground pool prevents you from gagging.
The mass of bodies’ are centered on pits carved into the hard cold stone. The sounds of bones being shattered and blood splashing against the floor assaults your ears as the crowds boo and hiss, throw empty beer steins into the arenas and threaten worse with hoots and howls. Or perhaps those are merely the howls of whatever is dying in the pit?
The orcs, burly beasts with variations dark green skin to black skin, shamble creatures move towards the center arena where the main fight is to be held. Some of you shift about, uncomfortable in your hiding places while others sharpen your blades, waiting for the fight to begin so that you might strike and take your vengeance against the greenskins. The dwarves, the sons and daughters of those who died at the hands of the greenskisn, grin with an eagerness in their smile that’s almost frightening.
The crowd parts like a living sea allowing one man to step into the arena. His footwork is light and leaves no trail. His every steep one calculated to bring him one step closer to victory. At his hip a short sword rests tightly secured while his chest is crossed with bandoleers of sheathed daggers. His perfect teeth are framed in a scarred face with dark green eyes starting out at the world with an intense hatred. His short-cropped spiky black hair juts straight up from his head like tiny daggers stabbing against the sky.
Lave
The incidents of Skraag burn forth from your mind as you sit in the hot tub. The scented herbs flow into your nose, erasing the smell of blood and death that ingrained itself into your skin. Here the marble pool is cool and soothing, a work of craftsmanship in stark contrast to all of the ruin that lay in Skraag.
Even as you rise from the tub though and avail yourself to the finest cloths in Lave, you feel something was not right in the events. The orcs were too eager to disengage from the blood letting, too eager to allow you to escape. Almost as if they had more dire concerns on their mind. A force of over ten thousand orcs with something to worry about? That worries you.
There’s a knock on the door, but it’s soft, almost as if it were apologetic. “My lord, you are needed in the meeting chamber.”
As you walk through the hallways, hair still dripping wet, you find others from your company there along with members of the Veshian government. They do not look happy.
“Come my friends, sit.” The Vigilant command tries to put on a positive face but there is a grimness to his features that can’t be attributed to recent events in headquarters.
“We have reports on a number of things that we felt we should share with you.” You don’t recognize the man, but he’s obviously a member of the House Asuras. A corpulent little man with greasy black hair and dirty fingers. Beady dirt brown eyes shift all about the room as if seeking an escape.
“Well, yes…let’s start shall we?” He raises from his seat as if hoping that even with his short height, the mere presence of standing will allow him to loom over the rest of you.
“I have to be gone soon so I’ll make my report and leave. Here are things are they currently stand in the south by Calistia’s borders.
“First, the war torn country of Durrov has been harboring the former baroness Amelia and her son. Apparently the renewed spirit of fighting we’ve seen down south has been due more or less to Amelia’s Loyalist as much as the Soldiers of Fortune.
“Second, this infuriated Lady Bliss so much that she has taken her forces in a slash and burn campaign out of the country. This of course doesn’t come without its own cost. She’s lost quite a few of her members to desertion as they stay and help the country they’ve grown to love. It does however, prove the effectiveness of her private Black Legion, a force of warriors capable of killing almost anything in their way. Of special note is the Jackal, a wizard of no small waters. He’s been able to blast through Calistian Battle Mages and foolish Loyalist with equal ease. I don’t know what Bliss did to this former shell of a man, but he’s confident and wild in battle.
“What’s worse is that the Treants, who remember Bliss and her scorched earth tactics from the Divine War, have started to gather to determine what to do about her. This doesn’t count of course, the many Crimson Legionaries her units have slaughtered.
“Third, and perhaps most important for us, the recent roadblocks and other communication problems we’ve had with Mitrhil are just the tips of the iceberg.” The fat Asuras leans back into his silk covered chair, folding his hands together and clicking the tips of the fingers against one another.
“The true problem is that the plains have hidden a vast army of undead under the crusty ground, hiding from casual observation, striking without being followed. Slipping right past even the stealthy vigils and pious paladins.” He dabs the sweat from his brow with a silk handkerchief, quickly drinking some of the fine spiced white wine with trembling hands, the wine sloshing just a bit over the edge.
“These monsters… they launch from the darkness with strength beyond counting. Only a few caravans have been able to make any journeys recently. Take for example your own tour of the Bridged City. Didn’t you notice how empty the roads were? Didn’t you notice that the traders and merchants only came out in numbers when an army moved with them?
“And you never thought to question it did you? You and your simple minds.” He slams the glass down, his hands clenching so tight that the glass shatters sending small rivulets of blood to the table.
“Minister, that’s enough. House Asuras or no House Asuras, you’ll remember you’re place here as a guest.” The commander’s tone is clear and crisp, leaving no doubt as to whom wields the power here. Or at least who wields the power here this moment.
There’s an intense burning hatred in those beady eyes for a moment but the little man merely smiles and nods his head meekly, holding out his cut hand for one of the maids to bandage. “Indeed commander. You’re quite correct. I apologize if I’ve overstepped my bounds. You see, unlike others, I’ve lost more than mere treasure in these times. My son was one of those who didn’t make it back to Lave this time.” Without a backward glance, he flicks the blood to the floor and walks out of the room.
The command sighs. The weight of leadership crushing him like an iron vice. “What’s worse, what he didn’t say, is that he managed to escape only with the aid of magic. A magic that he always meant to buy for his son, but always thought it would be best to do so another day because the gold could be spent somewhere else. Still, it’s not his fault, it’s the fault of the vigils and the paladins who allowed this situation to get this far. At least, to him it is.” He shakes his head with disgust, waving away another of the maids whose anxiousness to serve her lord is obvious.
“What the Asuras failed to mention is that the undead are in full force now. They’ve taken several of the watchtowers on the Corridor and even now are preparing to march on and destroy the last bastion of light between Mullis Town and Mitrhil. Why they havent’ simply wiped Mullis from the face of Scarn is anyone’s guess but at this point, I’ll take any concession I can from the enemy.
“What we of Vesh need, and why Bliss claims to have started her cut and burn retreat from Durrov, is that we need to reinforce that tower. The Soldiers of Fortune who are here, and those who serve the light of Corean and all of the gods of order and justice, must reinforce that last tower If the lines of communication are cut off, if this vital artery of trade is lost, all of Scarn stands to lose.”
The Offer of Bliss
As she walks in, heads turn. Her pale blond hair streaks out behind her like a living thing even as it caresses her slender face. Her pale eyes shine like two blue diamonds so great in their intensity. Her frame is bound in fine plate armor that flows more like a second skin then armor capable of withstanding the blows of titans. Her crimson cape billows out behind her, flapping in the same wind that whips her hair about.
Her blood red lips stand out in stark contrast to her pale flesh as she speaks. “You who recently hail from Mitrhil, I would offer a bargain to you.” She purrs.
“In exchange for vowing not to ever raise swords against my guild, the Soldiers of Fortune, I will offer you power.” Even as some shift uncomfortably about, she raises a hand to halt any protest.
“Do not think that I have forgotten or forsaken those who’ve worked for me so long nor so willingly. It’s important to remember however, that in serving me, you’ve also been serving yourselves. You’ve gained tremendous power and prestige. Even those of you who’ve been mere assistants to my greater plan, like the monk and the vigilant.” Her smile is enough to shake the will of strong men and bend weak men to their knees.
“Each one of you has skills and abilities that grow as you use them. However, magic can surpass a normal man’s learning curve. I’ve commissioned tomes to augment your abilities if you agree to leave my soldiers alone, come what may.” You think you see a twinkle of mischief in her eyes for a second, but it’s gone before it can register in your brain.
Gatsu towers above the woman, seemingly unafraid but you can see his hand open and close as if in preparation for a great battle he knows is yet to come. “Your soldiers you say? Fair enough. I’m not worried about some mercenaries who’d only get in my way.”
He plants his huge two-handed sword blade first in the ground in front of Bliss. “What I want to know, if what about you? Will this contract protect you Bliss?” Not a handsome man or one whose charisma would lead the masses to victory, his smile nonetheless is an intimidating sight.
“Why would I ever need to fear such as you?” There’s a dangerous gleam in those pale blue eyes that would terrify a lesser man but Gatsu, standing over a foot above Bliss, is unimpressed.
“Then the answer is no. We are always free to attack you.” The words come out through gritted teeth and the clash of personalities is obviously wearing on Gatsu.
“Indeed. Why not? If nothing else, it’d provide a brief minute of sport or two.”
“Now here is the offer. You will be bound by me to not attack my army if you accept my gifts. Who among you will accept them?”
Gatsu unclenches both hands, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “I’ll take one.” Everyone is shocked by what he says next. “I need to augment my wisdom so that I can better my willpower.” Few would ever associate the berserk warrior seeking to augment his willpower if anything.
Enrin doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t know you False Lady but I know of you. I must decline your generous gift at this moment. Any soldier of yours that raises blades against my city will taste my power.” Enrin paused for a moment. "And the power of the Guild of Shadows."
For a second Bliss is off balance as if she struggled for something to say but she merely nods once. “Ah, not quite so chaotic as to abandon your city when it needs you eh Enrin? Good. I’ll insure that the Jackal gives you at least a run for your money.” Some of you shudder when you recall the Jackal, a broken man made whole only thanks to the power of the False Lady.
Bliss turns towards each of you. “What will your answer be? Empowerment or enslavement?”