Struggle and Strife- A scarred lands storyhour
- Thread starter Lars Frehse
- Start date
Especially to aid those trying to rid the land of titanspawn/disruptive unnatural elements. Btw, I have to say I'm VERY stoke with the way Lars and his crew is going about this.Lars Frehse
First Post
Thanks, and some background stats of my campaign
Thank you guys!
I used the "Herald of Denev" template from "the divine and the defeated" on the squirrel as printed in one of the Dragons. (Thanks to Nutkin for pointing me towards the article.).
Here are his actual stats:
Squirrel Nutkin, Herald of Denev, the Earth Mother
CR --; Diminutive Outsiderl; HD d10; hp 12; Init +5 (Dex); Spd 15 ft., climb 22 ft.; AC 24 (+5 natural, +4 size, +5 Dex); Atk +2, Damage: d4-3, SQ: Scent, Aura of Denev, Blindsight, Damage Reduction 20/+2, Fast Healing 10, Immunities, Lowlight Vision, Resistance to Energy (10 against cold, electricity and fire), Spell like abilities, Spell Resistance 20, Tongue of the wild; Face 1 ft. by 1 ft.; Reach 0 ft.; SV Fort +4, Ref +7, Will +3; Str 4, Dex 20, Con 15, Int 10, Wis 16, Cha 20.
Skills: Animal Empathy: 13, Balance: 14, Climb: 14, Concentration: 12, Diplomacy: 10, Handle Animal 14, Heal: 13, Hide: 27, Intuit Direction: 13, Jump: 15, Knowledge Nature: 15, Listen: 8, Move Silently: 27, Scry: 5, Search: 5, Sense Motive: 8, Spellcraft: 5, Spot: 13, Swim: 5, Wilderness Lore: 18
Feats: Alertness, Combat Casting, Dodge, Endurance, Mobility, Multiattack, Run, Spring Attack, Track
His spell like abilities include things like the ability to cast cure moderate wounds once per day and cure light wounds three times per day like a Druid of 10th level.
I also gave him some "cure minor wounds" orisons, so that he could stabilize the downed characters.
Both types of critters, the Charfiends and the forgewight, are from the first Monster Manual by Sword and Sorcery.
Thank you guys!
I used the "Herald of Denev" template from "the divine and the defeated" on the squirrel as printed in one of the Dragons. (Thanks to Nutkin for pointing me towards the article.).
Here are his actual stats:
Squirrel Nutkin, Herald of Denev, the Earth Mother
CR --; Diminutive Outsiderl; HD d10; hp 12; Init +5 (Dex); Spd 15 ft., climb 22 ft.; AC 24 (+5 natural, +4 size, +5 Dex); Atk +2, Damage: d4-3, SQ: Scent, Aura of Denev, Blindsight, Damage Reduction 20/+2, Fast Healing 10, Immunities, Lowlight Vision, Resistance to Energy (10 against cold, electricity and fire), Spell like abilities, Spell Resistance 20, Tongue of the wild; Face 1 ft. by 1 ft.; Reach 0 ft.; SV Fort +4, Ref +7, Will +3; Str 4, Dex 20, Con 15, Int 10, Wis 16, Cha 20.
Skills: Animal Empathy: 13, Balance: 14, Climb: 14, Concentration: 12, Diplomacy: 10, Handle Animal 14, Heal: 13, Hide: 27, Intuit Direction: 13, Jump: 15, Knowledge Nature: 15, Listen: 8, Move Silently: 27, Scry: 5, Search: 5, Sense Motive: 8, Spellcraft: 5, Spot: 13, Swim: 5, Wilderness Lore: 18
Feats: Alertness, Combat Casting, Dodge, Endurance, Mobility, Multiattack, Run, Spring Attack, Track
His spell like abilities include things like the ability to cast cure moderate wounds once per day and cure light wounds three times per day like a Druid of 10th level.
I also gave him some "cure minor wounds" orisons, so that he could stabilize the downed characters.
Both types of critters, the Charfiends and the forgewight, are from the first Monster Manual by Sword and Sorcery.
Lars Frehse
First Post
Thank you!
I am writing the next installment right now, and I think I will be able to post the first half of it tomorrow, so that I will have all of it posted by Saturday.
The title will be "Father Figure" and in it our heroes will try to solve the horrible death of a merchant.
Will they succeed? Soo you will know!
I am writing the next installment right now, and I think I will be able to post the first half of it tomorrow, so that I will have all of it posted by Saturday.
The title will be "Father Figure" and in it our heroes will try to solve the horrible death of a merchant.
Will they succeed? Soo you will know!
Lars Frehse
First Post
Fatherfigure
Torn turned to the woman and gave her all the comfort he could as Lorian, the lord of the village entered the room. He was a good looking Half Elf who’s face kept it's calm as he looked at the terrifying sight of the withered corpse.
After a few seconds he turned to Jan: "Paladin, may I talk to you in private?"
"Of course, Sir.", Jan answered.
The big innkeeper opened an empty room for them, and once they had entered and were by themselves, Lorian turned to Jan:" I am honored to make your aquaintance, Paladin, even though I would have wished for a happier occasion. My name is Lorian and I am the lord of this village and the lands that surround it.
"I am worried about the death of that merchant. I am aware that a mundane cause of his death seems unlikely. And if the cause was supernatural, or violent in any form, I want to know what had caused it- and make sure that it won't happen again. This village, we call it Weddafurt, is not used to things like that. We may be a bit backwards here, but at least we have always had a comodity that is rare in most of Ghelspad: Peace. I think it is no accident that in a dark hour like this, a champion of Corean and his noble friends found
their way here. Please help us.".
"Sure", Jan answered: "But I can not speak in the name of my friends, so even though you can count on my help, I would have tospeak to them first."
Lorian of Weddafurt nodded in agreement:" Sure, do what you must. I will be back in a few minutes, so you have time to talk to your friends first."
The half elf left, and Jan walked back into the room with the corpse. By now, Vasili Petorn, the big innkeeper had lead the widow into a seperate room, and still the room was crowded. All of the heroes stood there, speculating about the cause of death, and Tore Krofak, the local Hedrada priest, was performing a ritual enbalment. Jan told them about the lord's offer, and after some debate, and Lorian's offer of a paper that was worth 200 gold pieces at the local merchant, all of them agreed to solve the case.
Torn and Ben examined the body and Ben said: "One thing is clear- there are no natural herbs or diseases that could have done that."
"Neither any poison I know of", added Torn.
They undressed the body. Culan Hayworth had been a big man in life, but whatever had caused his death had made some of his fat disappear. His grey skin was cold to the touch- much colder then the air of the room, and there was no visible wound. His dead eyes were
bloodshot and his mouth stood wide open.
While the others examined the body, Ben talked to the widow, Tari Hayworth.
"I hope you don't mind if I ask you some questions.".
She waved her hand and wiped some tears away with her handkerchief: "No, no, it's alright. Go ahead."
"First, I have to know whether you have any enemies you know of.".
She seemed genuinely surprised:" No, why should we?"
"Well, could you tell me what you are trading with?"
"We are delivering medical herbs and spices from Durrover to Burok Torn and buying gems and art there. Usually, we are travelling light in order to bypass the Calastian siege. That is
easier done with two horses then with a wagon full of goods."
Ben knew about Burok Thorn, of course. The city of dwarves was one of Durrover's allies in their struggle against the juggernaut,that was the Calastian empire. Even though the Calastians had conquered the major surface pass to it over 60 years before, the
dwarves were still defiant in the face of an overwhelming opposition.
But since Irontooth pass was held by the enemy, traders and travellers had to use ways through the kelders which were much more hazardous then the Irontooth used to be. Not only was there still Titanspawn lairing in the Kelders and praying on unwary travelers, but the land itself was dangerous. Landslides, falling rocks or avalanches were but a few of the dangers there.
”Do you think that your goods could be of such importance that the Calastians could want to see you dead?”, Ben asked.
“No, I don’t think so. We may be from Durrover and trading with their enemy, but we are surely too insignificant to be noticed.
“ Have you noticed anything unusual about your husband lately? Did he seem anxious or maybe he wasn't feeling good?"
"No, nothing I remembered", she mused. Then something came to her mind:" Wait! Last night, we had already been staying at that inn,he had a horrible nightmare. He told me the next morning that he had dreamt of our son, Jerole..."
Her voice fainted and she stopped talking. When she didn't continue Ben asked: "Is something wrong?"
The widow was now fighting to hold her tears back:" Jerole, our son, he was our only son and after his birth, the midwife told me that I would never have a child again. When he was four, there was an epidemy in Durrover, and he died. "Last night, my husband had a nightmare about him. He told me that in his dream, he felt a loneliness and desperation that was unbearable…”
Now it was too much for her. She let her tears flow freely and Ben stayed to comfort her.
During the day, the group split. But there were no tracks under the window of the Hayworth's sleeping room, and none of the villagers theyspoke to remembered anything similar in the history of Weddafurt.
Tore Krofak, the priest of Hedrada had taken the body into the church of the eight gods and the Earth mother, since the burial was planned for the next day. But, as he explained to Niklas the monk, he didn't know too much about the supernatural- he was just a lowly village priest who tried to do his best, so that the gods looked favorably upon Weddafurt.
During the night, the group decided that Ben and Torn would watch over the widow, who would spend one more night in the village, and the others would stay in the church. There, they sat in the main hall,which had statues of all the major gods in it. Here, cruel Belsameth
stood peacefully facing her peaceful sister Madriel and Vangal, the god of slaughter stood opposite of Corean, the paladin. And in thebeautiful colored glassdome of the curch, Denev, the eartmother looked down on the children which she had supported in the struggle with the other titans.
When it got dark, Tore Krofak lit up the candles, and then retreated to a little room in the back of the church where he went to sleep. In the meantime, Ben and his dog sat in Rita Hayworth's sleeping room while Torn slept in the neighboring chamber. While the widow was sleeping, Ben sat and watched. Minutes crawled by, and soon each minute felt like an hour. Through a little window, starlight illuminated the room a little, and after a while, the moon rose and filled the room with it's pale light.
Ben was nodding off, when all of a sudden his dog started to growl. The incarnate jerked awake and looked down at his dog who’s hair was standing up. He followed the dog’s gaze, and there, next to the bed, he saw the transparent shape of a little boy with short, unruly hair and a sad face. The clothes of the child were rags and he looked at the empty part of the bed with a puzzled expression.
Ben held his breath. The ghost turned around and looked at Ben for a short while, and the halfling tried to catch it’s attention by waving at him, but already the transparent boy turned towards the wall at the head of the bed and walked right through it, as if there was no barrier at all.
Ben jumped up, and knocked against the wall of the room in which Torn was sleeping lightly, waking both the Half Orc and the widow in the process. He jumped up and ran to the door of the room which the ghost had entered. Finding it locked, he hammered against the door with his little fists. Shortly afterward, his hammering was answered by a panicked scream.
Just as Torn was about to throw his weight against the door, it was opened from the inside, and a sweat covered and redfaced overweight merchant in nightie stood in the door:” There, there, there… There was a ghost!”, he stammered.
“What did he look like, what did he do?”, both Torn and Ben asked him at once.
“He looked like a little boy, and I must have had a bad dream, but then there was this noise at the door, and there, next to me in my bed, there was a ghost! I was face to face with him, and his eyes were just a few inches away from mine!”
Torn pressed on, fearing the man could give in to his panic soon: “And that dream you had- did it make you feel lonely and desperate?”.
The merchant was surprised: “Why, yes, that is what I felt like.”
By now, the corridor had filled up with lodgers and the Innkeepers who had been woken up by the noise.
After sending the lodgers back to bed, Torn and Ben took the Innkeeper aside.
They explained to him what had happened, but the Innkeeper was as surprised as they themselves. He had heard stories about ghosts, but certainly, there have never been any in this village. But when Ben described the ghost to him, Vasili Petorn said:” Hmmmm. How odd. He looks exactly like the son of the witch upstream.”
“What!?”, Ben exploded:” You have a witch here, and you tell us only now?!”
Vasili Petorn was surprised by the outburst: “Why, I didn’t think it would be important. She is just a woman that was banned from the village society and who tries to make a living on here own.”
”Then why do you call her a witch?”
“Everybody does. Her name is Sara Lanka. She was born with six fingers to each hand, which was interpreted as a sign or Mormo the witch. She lives a miserable life upstream and can’t enter the village. But I don’t think that she is really a witch… Just a victim to some of the more superstitious villagers.”.
“And she has a son?”
“Yes, he was born three years ago. Poor lad, having no friends to play with. I sometimes give them some flour or salt to help them.”
Vasili told them, that in order to get to Sara’s cottage, they would have to walk upstream for about half a mile, and they decided to try that in the morning. Torn then continued the watch in the widow’s room and the frightened merchant left, swearing to never come back to this ghosthouse. Apart from that, nothing happened that night.
On the next morning, our heroes met for a hearty breakfast. Ben and Torn told the others what had happened, and soon it was decided that Ben and Jan would go to speak to the so called witch. They didn’t want to frighten her by going there together. Five foreigners could be considered bad news by a lonely living woman.
Jan and Ben walked along the Wedda while their friends waited at the inn. The sun was shining and the clean air and the fresh smell of springtime almost made them forget that just one night ago, a man had died a horrible death.
… to be continued.
Torn turned to the woman and gave her all the comfort he could as Lorian, the lord of the village entered the room. He was a good looking Half Elf who’s face kept it's calm as he looked at the terrifying sight of the withered corpse.
After a few seconds he turned to Jan: "Paladin, may I talk to you in private?"
"Of course, Sir.", Jan answered.
The big innkeeper opened an empty room for them, and once they had entered and were by themselves, Lorian turned to Jan:" I am honored to make your aquaintance, Paladin, even though I would have wished for a happier occasion. My name is Lorian and I am the lord of this village and the lands that surround it.
"I am worried about the death of that merchant. I am aware that a mundane cause of his death seems unlikely. And if the cause was supernatural, or violent in any form, I want to know what had caused it- and make sure that it won't happen again. This village, we call it Weddafurt, is not used to things like that. We may be a bit backwards here, but at least we have always had a comodity that is rare in most of Ghelspad: Peace. I think it is no accident that in a dark hour like this, a champion of Corean and his noble friends found
their way here. Please help us.".
"Sure", Jan answered: "But I can not speak in the name of my friends, so even though you can count on my help, I would have tospeak to them first."
Lorian of Weddafurt nodded in agreement:" Sure, do what you must. I will be back in a few minutes, so you have time to talk to your friends first."
The half elf left, and Jan walked back into the room with the corpse. By now, Vasili Petorn, the big innkeeper had lead the widow into a seperate room, and still the room was crowded. All of the heroes stood there, speculating about the cause of death, and Tore Krofak, the local Hedrada priest, was performing a ritual enbalment. Jan told them about the lord's offer, and after some debate, and Lorian's offer of a paper that was worth 200 gold pieces at the local merchant, all of them agreed to solve the case.
Torn and Ben examined the body and Ben said: "One thing is clear- there are no natural herbs or diseases that could have done that."
"Neither any poison I know of", added Torn.
They undressed the body. Culan Hayworth had been a big man in life, but whatever had caused his death had made some of his fat disappear. His grey skin was cold to the touch- much colder then the air of the room, and there was no visible wound. His dead eyes were
bloodshot and his mouth stood wide open.
While the others examined the body, Ben talked to the widow, Tari Hayworth.
"I hope you don't mind if I ask you some questions.".
She waved her hand and wiped some tears away with her handkerchief: "No, no, it's alright. Go ahead."
"First, I have to know whether you have any enemies you know of.".
She seemed genuinely surprised:" No, why should we?"
"Well, could you tell me what you are trading with?"
"We are delivering medical herbs and spices from Durrover to Burok Torn and buying gems and art there. Usually, we are travelling light in order to bypass the Calastian siege. That is
easier done with two horses then with a wagon full of goods."
Ben knew about Burok Thorn, of course. The city of dwarves was one of Durrover's allies in their struggle against the juggernaut,that was the Calastian empire. Even though the Calastians had conquered the major surface pass to it over 60 years before, the
dwarves were still defiant in the face of an overwhelming opposition.
But since Irontooth pass was held by the enemy, traders and travellers had to use ways through the kelders which were much more hazardous then the Irontooth used to be. Not only was there still Titanspawn lairing in the Kelders and praying on unwary travelers, but the land itself was dangerous. Landslides, falling rocks or avalanches were but a few of the dangers there.
”Do you think that your goods could be of such importance that the Calastians could want to see you dead?”, Ben asked.
“No, I don’t think so. We may be from Durrover and trading with their enemy, but we are surely too insignificant to be noticed.
“ Have you noticed anything unusual about your husband lately? Did he seem anxious or maybe he wasn't feeling good?"
"No, nothing I remembered", she mused. Then something came to her mind:" Wait! Last night, we had already been staying at that inn,he had a horrible nightmare. He told me the next morning that he had dreamt of our son, Jerole..."
Her voice fainted and she stopped talking. When she didn't continue Ben asked: "Is something wrong?"
The widow was now fighting to hold her tears back:" Jerole, our son, he was our only son and after his birth, the midwife told me that I would never have a child again. When he was four, there was an epidemy in Durrover, and he died. "Last night, my husband had a nightmare about him. He told me that in his dream, he felt a loneliness and desperation that was unbearable…”
Now it was too much for her. She let her tears flow freely and Ben stayed to comfort her.
During the day, the group split. But there were no tracks under the window of the Hayworth's sleeping room, and none of the villagers theyspoke to remembered anything similar in the history of Weddafurt.
Tore Krofak, the priest of Hedrada had taken the body into the church of the eight gods and the Earth mother, since the burial was planned for the next day. But, as he explained to Niklas the monk, he didn't know too much about the supernatural- he was just a lowly village priest who tried to do his best, so that the gods looked favorably upon Weddafurt.
During the night, the group decided that Ben and Torn would watch over the widow, who would spend one more night in the village, and the others would stay in the church. There, they sat in the main hall,which had statues of all the major gods in it. Here, cruel Belsameth
stood peacefully facing her peaceful sister Madriel and Vangal, the god of slaughter stood opposite of Corean, the paladin. And in thebeautiful colored glassdome of the curch, Denev, the eartmother looked down on the children which she had supported in the struggle with the other titans.
When it got dark, Tore Krofak lit up the candles, and then retreated to a little room in the back of the church where he went to sleep. In the meantime, Ben and his dog sat in Rita Hayworth's sleeping room while Torn slept in the neighboring chamber. While the widow was sleeping, Ben sat and watched. Minutes crawled by, and soon each minute felt like an hour. Through a little window, starlight illuminated the room a little, and after a while, the moon rose and filled the room with it's pale light.
Ben was nodding off, when all of a sudden his dog started to growl. The incarnate jerked awake and looked down at his dog who’s hair was standing up. He followed the dog’s gaze, and there, next to the bed, he saw the transparent shape of a little boy with short, unruly hair and a sad face. The clothes of the child were rags and he looked at the empty part of the bed with a puzzled expression.
Ben held his breath. The ghost turned around and looked at Ben for a short while, and the halfling tried to catch it’s attention by waving at him, but already the transparent boy turned towards the wall at the head of the bed and walked right through it, as if there was no barrier at all.
Ben jumped up, and knocked against the wall of the room in which Torn was sleeping lightly, waking both the Half Orc and the widow in the process. He jumped up and ran to the door of the room which the ghost had entered. Finding it locked, he hammered against the door with his little fists. Shortly afterward, his hammering was answered by a panicked scream.
Just as Torn was about to throw his weight against the door, it was opened from the inside, and a sweat covered and redfaced overweight merchant in nightie stood in the door:” There, there, there… There was a ghost!”, he stammered.
“What did he look like, what did he do?”, both Torn and Ben asked him at once.
“He looked like a little boy, and I must have had a bad dream, but then there was this noise at the door, and there, next to me in my bed, there was a ghost! I was face to face with him, and his eyes were just a few inches away from mine!”
Torn pressed on, fearing the man could give in to his panic soon: “And that dream you had- did it make you feel lonely and desperate?”.
The merchant was surprised: “Why, yes, that is what I felt like.”
By now, the corridor had filled up with lodgers and the Innkeepers who had been woken up by the noise.
After sending the lodgers back to bed, Torn and Ben took the Innkeeper aside.
They explained to him what had happened, but the Innkeeper was as surprised as they themselves. He had heard stories about ghosts, but certainly, there have never been any in this village. But when Ben described the ghost to him, Vasili Petorn said:” Hmmmm. How odd. He looks exactly like the son of the witch upstream.”
“What!?”, Ben exploded:” You have a witch here, and you tell us only now?!”
Vasili Petorn was surprised by the outburst: “Why, I didn’t think it would be important. She is just a woman that was banned from the village society and who tries to make a living on here own.”
”Then why do you call her a witch?”
“Everybody does. Her name is Sara Lanka. She was born with six fingers to each hand, which was interpreted as a sign or Mormo the witch. She lives a miserable life upstream and can’t enter the village. But I don’t think that she is really a witch… Just a victim to some of the more superstitious villagers.”.
“And she has a son?”
“Yes, he was born three years ago. Poor lad, having no friends to play with. I sometimes give them some flour or salt to help them.”
Vasili told them, that in order to get to Sara’s cottage, they would have to walk upstream for about half a mile, and they decided to try that in the morning. Torn then continued the watch in the widow’s room and the frightened merchant left, swearing to never come back to this ghosthouse. Apart from that, nothing happened that night.
On the next morning, our heroes met for a hearty breakfast. Ben and Torn told the others what had happened, and soon it was decided that Ben and Jan would go to speak to the so called witch. They didn’t want to frighten her by going there together. Five foreigners could be considered bad news by a lonely living woman.
Jan and Ben walked along the Wedda while their friends waited at the inn. The sun was shining and the clean air and the fresh smell of springtime almost made them forget that just one night ago, a man had died a horrible death.
… to be continued.
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