Neverwinter World; a Dungeon World Playset

[Manbearcat]

This will be a new Dungeon World game I will be GMing for @darkbard and @Nephis that will be centered around a pair of characters within the conflict-rich setting of 4e's Neverwinter Campaign Setting (one of 4e's finest offerings among many incredible books). The core loop of Dungeon World, its agenda, principles, and priorities will be intact. However, there will be several amendments to the game in the way of Custom Moves, 4e NCS Character Theme playbooks, recovery model changes, End of Session revision, a My Life With Master-ish approach to generating the primary PC antagonists (each PC's Threat, its Grim Portents, and its Impending Doom) and various and sundry other bits and bobs (which will be detailed below).

As well as including the maps and PCs/playbooks, this lead post will entail all of the above changes. However, I will have to handle this piecemeal via edits as there is a fair bit and I'm rather stretched thin right now.

So stay tuned...

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NCS p4 Intro and setting premise (cataclysm 10 years prior):

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Character Theme-derived Premise:

The two themes selected for play were Devil's Pawn ( @darkbard ) and Bregan D'aerthe Spy ( @Nephis ). See attached playbooks.

Some brief thoughts and commentary from each player as these playbooks were being generated:

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Factions

It is pending how many of these at the bottom are featured in play or even see play at all, but early conversation has landed upon:

* NEW NEVERWINTER

* ASHMADAI

* THAYANS

* SONS OF ALAGONDAR

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Distinct Custom Moves and Basic Moves

The game will use Dungeon World's core moves, but with some adjustments here and there for other game's (such as using Stonetop's Defend and Burn Brightly) updates where we feel there are some improvements. Below are specifics regarding moves.

CLASH
When you're on even footing with adversaries and fight in melee or close quarters, roll +STR: on a 10+, your maneuver works as expected (deal your damage) and pick 1.

• Avoid, prevent, or counter your enemy’s attack
• Strike hard and fast, for 1d6 extra damage, but suffer your enemy’s attack

On a 7-9, your maneuver works, mostly (deal your damage) but you suffer your enemy’s attack.
On a 10+, if your armament/implement used for Clash possesses the Area tag, you can step down the results to 7-9 and apply your damage to all foes in range.

MAKE CAMP
When you're in the dangerous wild and the dark of night sets upon you, name your campsite to lay down your burdens and roll +Int. On a 10+, pick 2; on a 7-9, pick 1:

• You've chosen your site well and fortified it against peril. No danger befalls you in the night (else, it does and you have to Keep Watch)
• You scavenge some supply. Gain 2 Adventuring Gear.
• Your stewardship moralizes your allies through their respite. Describe how and they take +1 forward.

Everyone mark 1 Ration. Anyone who needs to Recover Hit Points (half) and Prepare Spells can spend 1 xp to do so. If they have an aching Debility or damaged Equipment, they can spend xp 1 for 1 to Resolve Debility or Repair Equipment. If they do, describe how.

RECOVER
When you stay a few necessary days within the confines of civilization's protection, name your lodgings and pay the cost:

Peasant's Inn 14-Charisma coins: You Recover Hit Points (full) and Prepare Spells
Well-to-do Inn 30-Charisma coins: You Recover Hit Points (full), Prepare Spells, and Resolve 1 Debility.
Convalescence House 43-Charisma coins: You Recover Hit Points (full), Prepare Spells, and Resolve all Debilities.

UNDERTAKE A PERILOUS JOURNEY
When you travel through hostile territory, choose one member of the party to Muster the Fellowship and another to Lead the Expedition.

MUSTER THE FOLLOWSHIP
When you see to the morale and supply of your fellowship on a leg of a perilous journey, say how you do, and roll the worst of your allies' +Con or +Cha: On a 10+, you've managed hearts, provisions, and equipment with equal aplomb. On a 7-9, you get them through the worst of it, but choose 1:

• Someone is ill of spirit or body; perhaps you due to your burden. They take -1 forward.
• Crucial supply failure. Mark 1 Adventuring Gear, 1 Bandage, 1 Herbs & Poultices, 1 Bag of Books, or 5 Coin.
• A social conflict arises with a Cohort.

LEAD THE EXPEDITION
When you lead your charges through wilderness peril, chart your course, blaze your trail, and scout for danger, roll +Wis. On a 10+, you've led your charges through the first leg without danger; Make Camp. On a 7-9, choose 1:

• Something ominous is on the horizon, around the bend, over the hill. Point to it and tell us what you sense.
• An immediate danger lurks, but you are prepared for it. Tell us what it is and how you are prepared.

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PC Damage and PC/Monster/Equipment Tags

* All PCs will do b[2dx} with x being their playbook damage or novel move/equipment damage. This is typical DW language, but in modern TTRPG parlance, this would be roll damage with advantage.

* Forceful and Messy tags are being removed and broken out, while other tags are being added. Some of these are standard DW or in subsequent games:

Area: Affects everything in an area.
Awkward: Unwieldy, requires space, gets stuck, noisy, slow, hot.
Break: Gear, kit, or will.
Dangerous: Causes trouble and collateral damage if you aren’t careful (and maybe if you are).
Deprive: Something hand-held or ridden; weapon or mount.
Duel: You're on your own against the danger or threat until you change the situation.
Finesse: Clash with Dex instead of Str.
Fling: Thrown around, maybe even into something.
Grabby: Entangled, grappled, ensorcelled.
Ignores Armor: Acid or poison and the like.
Injure: Persistent, physical ailment that won't heal easily.
Piercing: Ignores x value armor.
Reload: After it’s used, it takes time/effort to reset.
Slow: Takes minutes or more to use; unlikely to be useful in a fight.
Stun: You're defying danger to act at all.
Thrown: You can Let Fly with it (at near range).
Vulnerable: To compromise strengths or expose weaknesses.
Wrong-foot: Put someone off balance, at a loss, create an opening.

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Coin Weight Change

Small change for Load dynamics in the game, but with fairly chunky impact on inventory management; 20 Coin = 1 Weight (rather than the default 100 per 1).

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NPC Threat Level

This will be a deeper formalization of general procedures of handling NPCS/Monsters in this game. It is loosely inspired by Blades' formalization of the same, but I'll be using 4e parlance:

MINIONS: Redshirts, mooks, cannon fodder, etc. These creatures will only be represented as soft moves sparingly or when move resolution requires it. They cannot seize the advantage under normal circumstances and in social conflicts, they aren't possessed of a complex Instinct which PCs must suss out and resolve. They are meant to be taken out without too much trouble, their moves will be limited, and their hit points vs PC damage will nearly universally reflect a "1 hit kill"; 3 HP typically.

ELITES: These creatures are dangerous. They will always be represented with soft moves and can turn the tables on PCs via soft moves which will turn into hard moves if not addressed & resolved. They will always be possessed of a distinct Instinct which PCs must suss out and resolve in social conflicts. Their moves will be potent and expansive, their defenses will be more robust, and their hit points will reflect staying power; 10+.

SOLOS: These creatures are the archvillain antagonists. They will always be represented with multiple soft moves simultaneously, threatening PCs on multiple fronts and in multiple ways, while trivially being able to turn the tables on PCs via soft moves which will turn into hard moves if not addressed & resolved. They will always be possessed of a distinct and extremely challenging Instinct which PCs must suss out and pay some undesirable cost in order to resolve in social conflicts. Their moves will be potent and expansive, their defenses will be extremely robust and multiple, and their hit points will reflect enormous staying power; 18 to 24.

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PC-centered Threats

After we get some play under our belt and have a sense of trajectories and who our relevant players will be, the players and I will perform a psuedo-My Life With Master procedure where we generate the 2 x Campaign Threats for the game (one for each PC) in typical form:

THREAT NAME
Type (Affliction, Institution, Villain, etc)
Instinct: What is its crucial motivation?
4 x Grim Portents: Including a few stakes questions and moves (how does it cause problems)
Impending Doom: What happens if its crucial motivation is realized?

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The Maps

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Alright! I think that about covers it!

I'll follow up with the opening situation at some point in the near future!

 

[Manbearcat]

The stinking tang of the long tail of pyroclasm’s wake hangs subtly in the air.

Smoldering anxiety, intermittent shake of restless volcano, the clatter of newly collecting rubble.

A decade-old broken city on a mountain, in the middle of a reclaiming and a rebuild.

Oozing wild-eyed fury and predatory calculation.

Here in the feral Blacklake District, it is the dead-of-night. The earth juts and yaws wildly on Mount Hotenow, careening this way and that, encircling features, reaching skyward, plunging earthward. Mid-town Blacklake is "no man's land;" the perfect place for a donnybrook. On nighttime recon via the overgrown ruins of an old manor and estate, members of The Sons of Alagondar were just ambushed by Lord Dagult Neverember's forces. It is less a fierce clash and more a rout, as Neverember's Mintarn mercs are in force and horsemen to reinforce can be heard in the distance.

The drow, Bridget T’wyllwch, who has been charading as Cymril (the leader of The Sons) for a stretch sees the opportunity. Perhaps she had intel in advance that this ambush was going to happen? Regardless, moments ago, she slipped the Cymril mask upon one of The Sons of Alaondar's fallen, generating a ruse that should send ripples. However, unplanned for was the human caught in the crossfire. Further unplanned for was his supernatural nature; a heat far beyond mortal means enveloped him when he was caught in the crossfire of the clash, laying one of both sides low. Further, the heat singed the drow herself. <He was close...did he see me doff the mask and apply it to the dead?> It is an inevitable thought.

For now though, the pair have to get out of here, the route of these Sons is nearing complete. Those revolutionaries that remain alive are desperately trying to egress by any means possible as more and more of Dagult's forces pour onto the ruined estate grounds.

A vastly overgrown hedge wall of fierce thorns and robust foliage encircles the grounds. And it is high country filled with switchbacks. Getting anywhere fast is going to be difficult.

A pair of Neverember's cavalry pour into the open-air living room, rear and crash into the attached servant's stairwell of the manor, splintering it. The exterior facade threatens to come down on both the riders as well as you both (and not to mention the few Sons making a last stand!).

---

What do you do Bridget T’wyllwch and Pritchard Blackmantle?

Pritchard…why are you there in the first place?

Twyll, how long have you been posing as Cymril?

 

[darkbard]

PRITCHARD BLACKMANTLE staggers beside a pile of shattered masonry overgrown with thorny vines, one hand reaching out for support and drawing the sharp rebuke of piercing barbs that pierce his outstretched hand for his efforts. Perspiration dots his brow.

Quickly, he pulls his pained hand to his mouth, sucking at the two red pinpricks that mar his palm.

"Dash it!" he exclaims. He shouldn't even be here, exposed like this. It is only the hint of exposure, that mysterious letter delivered to him at The Driftwood Tavern earlier this afternoon, that led him to such risk. "Blackmantle, I am an old friend. Meet me at the House of a Thousand Faces two bells before midnight. I have much to share with you." It was unsigned but for the mark, the five-pointed star in red.

Someone from the old group? The mere thought makes his skin crawl. But if they recognize him ... here .... He had to see what they wanted. And, well, he has his sword cane if it comes to that!

Now, however, clandestine meetings with mysterious figures from the past couldn't be farther from his mind. And it seems, from the planting of the mask by this figure before him during this clash, that he's not the only one with something to hide!

As that overreaching grandee Neverember's horsemen splinter the timber stairwell, Pritchard responds immediately. With rapid calculation, he judges the arc of the falling supports and what would be needed to obstruct the path of the advancing horsemen to open up a path for him and this other to escape.

There! He leans the full weight of his body into a creaking post. The whole structure collapses in the space between them and the horsemen.

"Quickly, with me! Through the hedge!" he hisses at the drow woman. The brand on his chest beneath his shirt burns with an echo of the previously unleashed flame.

---

Pritchard is looking to utilize the collapsing stairwell to create an opening and enough time for him and Twyll to escape by interrupting the horsemen's advance upon them with the wreckage of the wooden structure.

INFERNAL INSIGHT

When you wield your environment against your foe(s), choose 1 from the list below and roll +INT: on a 7-9, pick 1, but you pay the infernal price. On a 10+, pick 1.

+ Impede or interrupt their actions

+ Create an advantage that grants you or an ally +1 forward on the next roll to exploit it

+ Deal damage appropriate to the source (b[2d4] for bruises/scrapes, b[2d6] for bloodshed, b[2d8] if it’d break bones, b[2d10] if it’d kill a common person)

r6,6 +2 INT =14. Yes, our very first roll in this game is boxcars! Surely, an omen! As aforementioned, I impede/interrupt their advance.

 

[Nephis]

Per Manbearcat: As the stairwell and facade collapse creates an opening for you two to dash toward the gnarly hedge perimeter and, hopefully, escape the grounds, you notice a document-fattened satchel amongst the bodies claimed by the scrum. This will be Bag of Books-equivalent related to Government & Insurgent Activities/Conspiracies; 3 uses, 2 Weight. However, you would have to risk arresting your egress momentarily in order to pull the purse from the entangled throng of bodies and rubble!

In the seconds between catching sight of the stranger and his urgent cry to follow him through the hedge, a myriad of thoughts and memories flashes through TWYLL's mind:

• Did he see? What did he see?
• I'm right: it is a trap! Those are Neverember's men!
• Can I trust a stranger? Is it safe?
• What choice do I have? I cannot remain here and I cannot be caught!

Briefly the drow sees in her mind's eye the face of young Allys, comely and fair, Allys's House thought to be a close ally of her own: Allys the beloved and ultimately absolutely untrustworthy ... and now dead. Trusting her (and subsequently being betrayed by her) is what set Twyll's feet onto the path to joining the Bregan D'aerthe after all. Joining the ranks of House-less drow and through that connection, creating shared purpose outside of the treacherous world of Houses.

No, she will not trust a stranger so easily, but Twyll does trust herself to find her own way and protect herself, even if it occasionally follows a path created by another. For now, she is prepared to allow this stranger to be a companion along the road: they both need escape, their needs are balanced. With this rapid-fire stream of thought, Twyll quickly chooses to follow the stranger through the brambles.

Then she stops, her attention caught by the satchel still looped around the arm of one of Neverember's agents. The need to gather information, especially now, when it may lend light to who created the ambush itself is strong indeed. This is especially true if the information leads to an agent of Neverember inciting it.

She reaches down, lifts the woman's arm, and carefully removes the bag from her grasp.

---

Twyll is looking to quickly grab the satchel of information before joining Pritchard in escape..

DEFY DANGER

When danger looms, the stakes are high, and you do something chancy, check if another move applies. If not, roll...

+DEX to employ speed, agility, or finesse

On a 10+, you pull it off as well as one could hope; on a 7-9, you can do it, but the GM will present a lesser success, a cost, or a consequence (and maybe a choice between them, or a chance to back down).

r4,1 +2 DEX = 7

 

[Manbearcat]

Twyll deftly scoops up the document-fattened satchel, quick-as-a-cat. However, there is a catch.

Here is what I'm thinking as a complication choice for your 7-9 result. Either

• The books are heavier than you anticipated (add 2 Weight to its existing 2 for 4 total). There is a reason for that. Valindra Shadowmantle, leader of the Thayan forces in Neverwinter, has an arcane sensor among them. These books are, in fact, what they say they are. But they are also a means for her to track factions that she is potentially at odds with or may potentially ally with.

or

• Alternatively, Twill notices the odd weight discrepancy, finds the 2 Weight sensor, and pitches it. Surveillance and added Weight problem solved. However, the effort to do so takes precious time, generating a -1 ongoing for you guys both until you lose Neverember's forces. Next complication is going to be some kind of event with those forces.

@Nephis response; "I WANT 1!"

Net:

Twyll deftly scoops up the document-fattened satchel, quick-as-a-cat (gain Bag of Books-equivalent related to Government & Insurgent Activities/Conspiracies; 3 uses, 2+2=4 Weight). However, there is a catch. Valindra Shadowmantle, leader of the Thayan forces in Neverwinter, has an arcane sensor among them. These books are, in fact, what they say they are. But they are also a means for her to track factions that she is potentially at odds with or may potentially ally with.

Nevermber's mercs from Mintarn battle it out with a pair of Sons who are making a last stand near the ruination of the old manor house. Across the unmanicured grounds to the gnarly, overgrown, briar-laden hedgewall. There is egress either north or south, depending upon whether your goal is The House of a Thousand Faces or Driftwood Tavern. However,

1) the ground falls away precipitously southward and is fraught with switchbacks while the north is a climb up avenues that are relatively exposed w/ easy access for Neverember's lookouts and fast-moving cavalry.

2) Further, to the immediate south is a famous Neverwinter Earthmote, suspended in mid-air some 40 feet above the hedgewall. There is a series of motes that are connected by vast chains and in-progress "road projects" that are little more than the beginnings of anchors and cross-members. Getting to them would take the right gear and a feat of prowess, but traversing them to the far southern end of Blacklake District would take Neverember's forces out of the equation entirely.

---

Where are you going? What do you do?

What is your immediate assessment of your "partner-in-crime" here Pritchard and Twyll? Just the surface reflex in terms of trust or lackthereoff; both allegiance and competency in getting you the hell out of this predicament.

 

[Nephis]

[present moment]: TWYLL sits in the darkness of one of the corner tables in the House of a Thousand Faces. As she nurses her mug of bitter ale and waits for the ordered bowl of stew to arrive, she thinks through the past few hours, some of the more eventful since she first took up Cymril's mantel a year ago. With a smirk, she relives the stranger's reaction at their parting.

[a few hours earlier]:
"Thanks for the assist, kid. See you around," the drow says as she hitches the satchel's strap higher onto her shoulder. She hurries past the man, taking in her surroundings and assessing her best route to her destination. With a gesture of salute, Twyll quickly heads southward along the familiar route, leaving the human staring after her, jaw dropped. No matter: she does not have time to test his trustworthiness, but she is grateful for the aid.

As she makes her way, she sticks to the shadows, keeping watch by glancing occasionally in windows to look for tails, other times actually taking the chance to look over her shoulder for more direct confirmation. She utilizes her familiarity with the route to sometimes scale over the edge of a switchback, both to save time and to obfuscate her route.

As she drops down one of these ledges -- again! -- she remembers how reconnaissance helped her years before, during that ambush in the Underdark. That morning she had noticed signs that things were not going her way, actual signs: the hand signals the others were using to communicate with each other when they thought her attention was caught elsewhere.

Thank Vhaeraun that her brother ... Twyll stumbles for a moment thinking on Rhodri and the probability of his death... With a breath, she continues onward, finishing her thought: thank Vhaeraun that her brother taught her many of his own skills, especially how to notice without being noticed. This skill allowed her to recognize that an ambush would happen, with enough time for Twyll to control how - and most importantly where - that ambush might take place. Slipping off the side of that narrow ledge onto hidden shelf saved her life... and gave her a life lesson in the power of subterfuge.

Through this she was able to orchestrate her own "death" at a place where she knew Rhodri had a contingency plan: a hidden stash of food, weapons, whatever necessities. That moment was also where Allys met her death ... as Twyll used the attack by her false friend against herself, allowing Allys's shove to carry both Twyll and the attacker herself over the edge ... and making sure that Allys's fall continued down into the abyss.

Landing quietly in the present, Twyll registers where she is and takes a moment to adjust. First, she takes off her cloak and turns it inside out: the darker color will both blend with her skin and will not be familiar to any who may have seen her at the rout. Then, taking the satchel of books, she puts it into her more capacious rucksack. As she does so, she is momentarily puzzled at its unusual density, but that is a matter for later.

Completing these alterations, Twyll looks at the sign for the tavern she seeks and strides forward and enters with confidence, finding this table from which she can observe and make plans.

[present moment]: Now, from her vantage point at her shadowed corner table, she waits to see what unfolds.

---

Twyll is utilizing her familiarity with the route as well as the dark shadows to escape southward to the House of a Thousand Faces.

CHAMELEON

When you use your surroundings to avoid suspicion or trouble, roll +WIS: on a 10+, hold 2 Guile; on a 7-9, hold 1 Guile and the GM reveals an Unwelcome Truth that cannot be resolved by spending Guile. You may spend Guile, 1-for-1, to:

+ Move about or maneuver unchallenged

+ Withstand direct scrutiny or questioning

+ Direct suspicion or attention elsewhere

r6,5 +1 WIS = 12, hold 2 Guile
* Spends 1 Guile to "move about or maneuver unchallenged" to bypass the hedge.

 

[darkbard]

PRITCHARD watches as the woman slips through the gap in the hedge he has safeguarded for their egress.

What the ...?!?

"So long ... I guess ..." he whispers. An ally, a comrade would be welcome right now. He has been so alone in the city. Overwhelmed. Terrified. It is one thing to desire abandoning a past; it is another altogether to have to brave a future on one's lonesome. So be it.

He twitches his upper lip in agitation, mustache bristling. Glancing over his shoulder at the continued scrum between Neverember's hirelings and the remnants of that dark elf's ragtag band, Pritchard makes a decision. Whoever it was that contacted him knows his past. Be they friend or foe, he must discern. And deal with them appropriately. To the House of a Thousand Faces it is, then!

Grasping his charcoal cape in one hand as a makeshift shield, he presses into the thicket to the south, the downward slope. The embankment is steep, and the inch-long thorns pierce and tear at him as he goes. But scratches are but nought in comparison to the glistening blades that threaten in the courtyard behind.

---

Pritchard intends to push through the grasping, tearing briar and endure the slips and stumbles associated with such a hasty removal over dropping, uneven ground, making his way through the dark streets of Blacklake towards the House of a Thousand Faces to see who his mysterious contact is.

DEFY DANGER
When danger looms, the stakes are high, and you do something chancy, check if another move applies. If not, roll...

... +CON to endure or hold steady

On a 10+, you pull it off as well as one could hope; on a 7-9, you can do it, but the GM will present a lesser success, a cost, or a consequence (and maybe a choice between them, or a chance to back down).

r6,2 +1 CON = 9.

Per Manbearcat:
I think a pretty simple take 1d4 environmental damage no armor applies (scrapes and basically full saturation within that space which would bypass armor) as you transit the hedge to freedom is an easy consequence here. So could you edit your entry with that, please (and its resolution)?

r4 -0 armor = 4 HP Damage (now 13/17). The thorny briar takes its toll upon Pritchard, leaving wicked scratches across his exposed face and hands as he pushes himself through the hedge.

 

[Manbearcat]

A dizzying array of mirrors and mannequins asymmetrically dot the common room of The House of a Thousand Faces. Lace hangs from the ceiling joists at odd angles and lengths, creating a shrouding and compartmentalizing effect that is either charming or off-putting depending upon the soul asked.

Mostly couches and lounges, there are a few tables and a singular booth set next to the trapdoor to the cellar (which is neatly below the booth's table and generally obscured).

Upon arrival, there is some general hobnobbing to soft music, a pipe player on the corner dais with a stovepipe hat for donations, as folks smoke and drink on the lounges. However, two things stick out:

1) A female Tiefling flipping a coin over her knuckles as a hand of cards unfolds at her table. She pops it off her hand onto the table and it comes to a standstill. The odd coin is pulled close to the eye of another player who scowls at the strange mint.

"Foreign," the man spits.

She looks incredulous as she replies; "what? My money don't spend?"

A huff and the game proceeds.

2) A trio of young people, 16-25 years of age by simple reckoning, lean over that lone boothed table in the corner, curtain half-drawn. The former Cymril (Twyll) trivially recognizes them as younger members of the ever-fracturing Sons of Alagondar. They're pointing at and shuffling through various sheafs of parchment while speaking in hushed-but-agitated voices. Who they're talking to on the other side of the table is a mystery as both (a) they're obscured by the half-drawn curtain and (b) what little you can see of them is further obscured by heavy dress.

A hefty purse of coins is plopped upon the table.

---

What do you do? Take a moment to freeplay some "let us (the audience) get to know you" talky-talk between each other as well, please

 

[Nephis]

And unfold it does...

TWYLL sits quietly in the shadows, smoking a bowl of her favorite dwarven pipeleaf, aptly nicknamed "firestarter." Her gaze remains focused on the occupants of the booth - is that Casimir? and Dusan? and what's-her-name? Oh, right: Bogdana. Her mouth twists in a grimace: those three are not fit to survive! The scorchmarks Twyll can discern on their clothing - admittedly slight - mark them as possibly having been near the skirmish ... or perhaps there was another? Or even just a cooking fire accident: all possibilities from what she has seen of these idiots.

Zards! Her relinquishing of the mask is indeed timely: things look to be falling apart faster than they have been expecting! Now if she can only get closer to hear them and maybe even catch a glimpse of their cloaked conspirator.

The drow scans the room, looking for a way in. A creak at the entrance catches her attention, and Twyll smiles. "Firestarter, indeed!" she murmurs almost silently to herself.

First putting out her pipe, she then stands and begins to make her way toward the foyer, her smile widening into a welcome. There stands the nameless stranger from earlier, the one who paved the way for her own speedy exodus from the ambush.
"Well met, young sir! Allow me to buy something to quench your fiery thirst!"

 

[darkbard]

[The camera looks down on near-deserted streets from above. Much is in darkness. Occasionally, light spills from an unobscured window or doorway. There is the sound of leather-heeled boots striking cobbles.

In the distance, an unholy bellow and howl is heard. The footsteps accelerate.

The camera pans down to close in on the source of the footsteps: It is BLACKMANTLE, his brow dotted with perspiration, several scratches across his cheeks and nose.

The howl resounds again and his eyes widen, then fix on a doorway flanked by two sconces. A sign above the door in garish color, "The House of a Thousand Faces." A mirror set into the door's exterior, where a window might be. As he races to pull the door open, the camera zooms in on an inscription below the mirror, "Which face will you wear tonight?"]

Pritchard enters the tavern, the collar of his cloak drawn up as if to obscure his face. He walks purposefully to the bar.

"A glass of brandy, barman."

As nonchalantly as he can, he turns his head to take in the other patrons. Some gamblers. A group of youths. This woman walking up to him.

"What? How? Who? Is it you who arranged to meet me here?" He is incredulous.