To Find a King (updated 06/26)

[Mortepierre]

As a long time lurker of these boards, I felt inspired to start my own SH after reading the excellent work of authors such as Blackdirge, Orichalcum, or Seravin. I’ll be very happy indeed if I can consider myself their equal one day.

This campaign knew its first incarnation in 1988, back in the days of AD&D 1E, and was based mainly on two modules: To Kill a Kraken by Scott Bennie (from I13 Adventure Pack) and C4 To Find a King by Bob Blake, as well as one accessory: GAZ1 The Grand Duchy of Karameikos by Aaron Allston.

Ever since the “death” of 1E, I have been working on updating and expanding the original material to turn it into a full campaign setting. The 2E proved useful in this regard but not as much as I hoped it would and, for a time, I left the campaign aside to try my hands at other settings.

Then, in 2002, I acquired 2 accessories that sent me back running to my stack of notes: The Book of the Righteous (from Green Ronin) and the Monsternomicon (from Privateer Press).

The first in particular is a godsend when you are desperately trying to come up with a pantheon that doesn’t feel like an ersatz of something too widely known *cough* FR *cough*

Anyway, the new campaign began in 2003 and has been going on ever since (with a switch to 3.5E as soon as it came out). I feel I now have enough backlogs to write about it, hopefully regularly.

Readers will no doubt recognize names, monsters, items, etc.. borrowed from other settings. That’s because I like to pluck elements (new spells especially) that catch my fancy and “retrofit” them into my campaign. In this regard, I consider myself as having a debt toward Brian Moseley for his intriguing campaign setting (World of Roil).

We play with several house rules, some of which have a significant impact compared to “standard” 3.5E. Here are the most important:

For starter, druids and sorcerers are reviled. The former because of the war they waged on the kingdom centuries ago, the latter because their powers are viewed (by a majority) as proof of draconic or fiendish blood (except for elves whose sorcery is considered to be a legacy from their fey ancestors).

Wizards are rare, if only because the minimum score to cast spells is 2 pts higher than in the core rules (in other words, you need 13 in Int to cast 1st level spells). Moreover, at higher level, they all have to abide by the Arcane Covenant which forbids them from interfering with “what doesn’t concern them” (although no one beyond the wizard community seems to know exactly what that means).

Clerics don’t have access to the full array of divine spells. They are restricted to spells from a limited list that all deities have in common. Beyond that, they only have access to spells from their god’s domains (all of them, contrarily to the core rules), though they are still limited to the special powers of 2 domains. The main consequence is that few clerics can pray for Cure spells (given they aren't on the "limited" list). As such, the demand for lay healers (= specialists of the Heal skill) is quite high.

What’s more, the different cults now have to contend with the Great Church for worshippers. The latter is the result of a relatively recent philosophical trend that advocates the veneration of the whole pantheon rather than of each deity individually.

People not familiar with the The Book of the Righteous need to know this is a world whose deities (the “Pantheon of the Tree”) are all strongly aligned against Evil. At best, they are Lawful Good, and at worst Chaotic Neutral. Here, the enemy of all that is Good is personified by the forces of the Abyss, Gehenna, and Hell, with a special emphasis on the Deceiver. Fallen member of the pantheon, the latter is now the absolute ruler of Hell and forever seeks to bend all to his will. As he is associated with fire, that element has gained an evil connotation, except when used by the clergy of gentle Anwyn, goddess of the hearth.

Finally, the paladin is replaced by the holy warrior, a class whose special powers depend on the deity worshipped (in game terms, the paladin becomes the holy warrior of the Great Church) and whose alignment can vary between LG, NG, and CG (depending on the god).

A thread has been started in the Rogues Gallery to detail both the PC and the NPC they will face.

Numerical markers in the text are linked to explanatory notes that can be found at the end of a post.

SPOILER ALERT: I use published adventures in my campaign. Some old, some more recent. Reading this thread might spoil your surprise if you go through them later as a player. Moreover, one of the cults detailed in The Book of the Righteous has a big secret DM might not want their players to know. That secret plays an integral part in my campaign and, as such, will be slowly revealed in this story hour. Consider yourselves warned!

 

[Mortepierre]

Introduction:

The campaign is based in Drachenhold, a feudal monarchy. This country is divided into 5 provinces:
- the duchies of Cygnar, Karameikos, and Pellham (home to Widdershin, the capital)
- the prelacy of Menoth (where the Great Church holds sway)
- the principality of Suress (mainly populated by elves)

The population, while predominantly human, counts sizeable communities of (sundered) dwarves, (forest/stone) elves, and (lightfoot) halflings. The humans themselves are divided into 3 ethnic groups: the native Traladarans, the Russ who invaded from Orgoth and were later assimilated, and the Drachens who conquered the kingdom long ago. The latter remain a minority but a strong one due to the preservation of their original bloodlines.

Sundered Dwarves were originally described in the PHBR6 Complete Book of Dwarves, while Forest/Stone Elves come from Moon Elves (Dark Quest Games).

Drachenhold has a roughly oval shape. To the north-east, it is bordered by the Wild Coast and the Peaks of Flame, a region literally crawling with monsters (humanoids and giants mainly). The Ultanic Ocean lies just east of that area, as well as along the kingdom’s south-eastern frontier.

To the north lie the territories controlled by the Five Nations barbarians, currently at war with the kingdom after the latter seized half their lands through a series of bloody battles. Beyond the barbarians, one can find two “free cities”. Corvis, which the kingdom has an alliance with, and Freeport, whose “privateers” are the bane of Drachenhold’s merchant ships.

To the west and the south, Drachenhold is protected by the Wyrmsteeth Mountains and luckily so! Indeed, but a few dozen miles west as the crow flies stands the Desolation of Toruk, lair of the Wyrmfather. No one alive remembers seeing him leave his demesne since he woke up, centuries ago, in the aftermath of the Cataclysm. But all dread the day he will turn hungry eyes to the east…

To the south, through the Pass of Valsag (sole natural passage through the mountains), lies the Empire of Orgoth (mother country of the Russ) whose Tsars have tried to conquer Drachenhold for as long as the two existed. Now, a land under the sway of the evil Markovian Heresy.

Drachenhold is led by King Gerdant of House Werax, an aged man whose brow is perpetually creased by the weight of his problems. His two eldest sons died 2 years ago during the latest Orgothian invasion. Immediately after that tragedy, his last son disappeared and all clues pointed at a kidnapping by revenge-hungry Five Nations barbarians. Since no ransom was ever demanded, Prince Rath is now presumed dead. This leaves Gerdant with only one heir, Princess Juril. Unfortunately, by law and tradition, no queen has ever ruled the kingdom alone and the king knows there is no shortage of pretenders to the throne waiting for an opportunity. Furthermore, he has had to face two coups during his reign, one only last year by his own half-brother, Prince Rulkar!

Provinces in the kingdom are growing more restless by the day, some even hoping for independence, and the Great Church is pressuring the king to declare all other cults obsolete.

If Drachenhold is to endure, Gerdant knows he will have to find a worthy successor. A man who will marry his daughter, tame his rebellious vassals and restore order in the kingdom. In short, he has.. to find a King!

 

[Mortepierre]

Prelude - part 1: The Third Way

Drachenhold - Duchy of Karameikos
398 AC - Somewhere on the front line

“Eirak..”

He could feel a gauntlet hand shaking him gently. Well, as gently as a farmer would carry a sack of grain but at least it wasn’t a bucket of cold water...

“Come on sarge, wake up.”

He grumbled. “T’is better be worth it corporal..”

“Sah! Corporal Kergor, first platoon, beggin’ to report, sah!”

Groaning, Eirak grunted once more for good measure and then forced his eyes open. He blinked in surprise.

“T’is not even dawn yet, durn it!”

Corporal Kergor was standing at attention, not two feet away, rigid as a picket in the mud of the trench where Eirak had been trying to get a few hours of sleep before the next assault.

He stood up wearily, grabbed his helm, put it on and turned to face his subordinate. “Well?”

“Sah! Sentinels spotted a contingent o’ fresh mea.. er.. troops approachin’ from the east, sah!”

“Reinforcements?”

“Sah! Is the sergeant askin’ for this soldier’s opinion?”

Eirak sighed. “Oh come on Kerg.. at ease man! Ye know I’m always jumpy when I don’t get me beauty sleep.” He winked.

The two soldiers exchanged a chuckle and Kergor grinned. The corporal rubbed his beard a moment before answering. “Dunno, sarge. Took a good look at them meself. Their chin looked way too bare to me. Replacements more likely.”

Eirak sighed again. He hated this part of the job. “A’right, get them assembled and give me a minute to put on me official face.”

Kergor grinned like a cat about to eat a mouse. “Sah!” He saluted and left.

Finally alone, Eirak rearranged his scale mail and straightened the brown and white tabard that marked him as a soldier from the Iron Badger battalion. Well, formerly brown and white, that is. Presently, in-between the mud and the gore, an observer would have been lucky to discern there had once been more than one color displayed.

Of course, given his squad had spent the last two months liberating the duchy from an Orgothian invasion, hygiene hadn’t exactly been their top priority.

If we win, there’ll be time enough to clean up before paradin’ through Widdershin. If we lose.. well, it won’t matter anymore then.

He drank once from his belt flask, letting the whiskey warm his throat before settling in a stomach that hadn’t eaten anything worth naming in three days. He knew he would regret it in a few hours but, right now, he needed the kick.

As ready as he could be, he made his way to the new recruits.

**

“I’m sergeant-major Eirak Delkilar, first squad, second company o’ the Iron Badger battalion. In case some o’ ye axelin’s don’t know, we’re not just any unit. We’re the one and only fully dwarven unit of this here army. Some o’ our brothers serve in other battalions but this one is ours and ours alone. Those who preceded ye in it bought the freedom o’ our folks back home with their blood. See that tent on the hill back there?” he pointed northeast.

“That’s where ol’ Steelbelly is. Lieutenant-colonel Steelbelly to ye! See that flag right next to it? That’s our standard, and all the medals danglin’ from it were earned by yer predecessors on countless battlefields. No enemy has ever captured it before and none ever will as long as ye remember there’re but two ways out o’ this unit: head held high or feet first (1). Those men in plate armor guardin’ the standard live and die by that creed. They’re the Defenders.”

.. and one day, Terak willin’, I might just be worthy o’ joinin’ them.

“I don’t care if you think ye’re Aerix (2) himself reincarnated, here ye’re nothin’ till I decide otherwise. I’ve only three rules, so listen well ‘cause I won’t repeat meself!”

He cast the gaze his men had dubbed Mormekar’s kiss over the five young dwarves standing at attention in front of him.

“First rule: whatever order I give, ye obey. If I say jump!, you jump. No but, if, when, or why. You jump, period. If ye don’t, that burnin’ sensation down yer arse will be me foot helpin’ ye along!”

He could see several of his men nearby wincing in remembrance and had to fight to avoid cracking a smile.

“Second rule: we retreat only if ordered to. I’ll deal personally with the first man I catch breakin’ rank or - Terak forbids - runnin’ around like a headless gobber.”

Four of the recruits had the good sense to turn crimson at the suggestion they could be cowards. One, however, blanched. Eirak marked him mentally as someone to watch.

“Third and final rule: no one, I repeat NO ONE, dies without me express permission. Break that rule and I’ll make ye wish ye had stayed alive.”

He remained stony-faced while he watched them wonder silently if he had been serious about that last statement.

Good. As long as there is doubt in their mind, they’re bound to remember.

“Sarge!” came the cry behind him. “Scouts report they’re comin’!”

He swore under his breath. “A’right axelin’s, time to earn yer beard.” (3)

**

He cast a quick glance around him. All along the front line, as far as the eye could see, torches were being lit and planted into the ground, except in a few locations. He marked those as the areas defended solely by his battalion or one of the elven units from Suress. With a full moon gracing the night sky, the pointy-ears would be seeing as in full daylight. For dwarves such as himself, the dark of the night had already turned into a world painted in hues of black and white. Not at a long range, unfortunately. Living aboveground had dulled this particular gift of their race, but it would be sufficient to do what they excelled at: melee combat.

“LOCK .. AXE!” he yelled. Immediately, he heard his command being repeated along the line by his deputies. Quickly, he attached his own waraxe to his right-hand gauntlet through a series of small but sturdy chains. The soldiers of his battalion were famed for being well-nigh impossible to disarm, and rightly so! After all, no one had ever seen a badger lose its claws half-way through a battle...

“Sarge?”

He looked left. Corporal Kergor was standing at attention but with a worried expression on his face.

“What’s the matter, corporal?”

“Sah! I’m sorry to report Battle Chaplain Thundrin won’t be available to perform the Prayer. He hasn’t recovered yet from yesterday’s wound. T’is up to ye, sarge.”

He started to grumble but, after watching every soldier within earshot turn an expectant face his way, composed himself. He climbed out of the trench, put his shield down, closed his eyes, and mustered as loud a voice as he could.

“TERAK, BATTLE-FATHER, STEEL OUR HEARTS THAT WE MAY HONOR YE THROUGH OUR VALOR.” He laid his left hand atop his right vambrace.

“MORMEKAR, GRIM WANDERER, IF WE SHOULD FALL ON THIS DAY GUARD OUR SOULS ON THEIR WAY TO YER SON’S HALL O’ JUDGMENT.” He touched his shield with the tip of his waraxe.

“KORAK, SOUL-FORGER, HARDEN OUR WEAPONS THAT THEY MAY SHATTER THE BONES O’ OUR ENEMIES.” In one smooth motion, he struck the ground in front of him, sending mud flying.

“RONTRA, EARTH-MOTHER .. A CURSE UPON YE FOR TURNING YER BACK ON US!” He spat on the ground, an action he could hear his men imitating. The familiar anger filled his heart. He used it to strengthen his resolve (4).

On a sudden impulse, he added “WE ARE DWARVES! WE WILL NOT GO DOWN QUIETLY!”

The last statement elicited loud roars from the entire squad and many axes were raised in defiance before striking the ground symbolically.

Eirak picked up his shield and allowed himself a grim smile. That was the part he liked about his job.

Then, his eyes registered movement in the night. “STAND FAST! HERE THEY COME” He jumped down in the trench and readied himself.

**

They had been fighting for a good hour already, both sides neither giving quarter nor expecting any.

The Orgothian soldiers knew this was their last chance. For the past month, they had been slowly repulsed throughout the entire province till they stood with their back to the Wyrmsteeth Mountains, surrounded on two sides by Drachenhold’s army and on the third by the sea. But no help would come from that direction as warships bearing the flag of the Dragon Fang battalion, the king’s own, patrolled ceaselessly. And everyone knew that Drachen sailors could sink anything the Tsar dared send their way...

The Pass of Valsag had been retaken by the Lion Claw and Border Guard battalions three days before, cutting off the only possible escape route through the mountains.

On the other hand, Drachenhold’s soldiers weren’t in much better shape. The Karameikan regiment had sustained heavy casualties during the initial phase of the invasion and, though the other provincial regiments had scrambled to the rescue, it had still taken them two full months to break the siege of Korsk (5) and reconquer the duchy. And every inch of ground had had to be paid in blood along the way.

Both sides knew that, today, someone would have to break.. and be slaughtered.

**

Eirak blocked a spear thrust, taking care not to deflect it into the soldier fighting next to him. In one powerful chopping motion, he sundered the haft of the spear with his waraxe and, when the Orgothian soldier was carried forward by the momentum of his charge, sliced through his belly with the reverse blow. Blood sprayed all over, momentarily blinding him. He heard the voice of Kergor yelling a warning a second before something hard connected with his helm and sent him flying to the ground. Dazed, he tried to stand but had to wait a few seconds before his limbs responded to his will once again.

By the time he got up and his vision cleared, it was over. Kergor had stepped in front of him and taken the brunt of the next attack from a great brute wielding a two-handed maul. The corporal, half his face caved in from the blow, collapsed at Eirak’s feet.

Eirak growled and quickly closed the distance with the Orgothian, forcing the latter to backpedal to keep the dwarf within the maul’s reach. Unfortunately, mud and blood had combined to turn the battlefield into a slippery mess. The enemy soldier lost his footing and fell on his back.

Eirak didn’t give him a chance to get up. He took two steps forward and struck hard, severing the Orgothian’s left leg at the thigh. Instead of finishing him off, he then retreated to his former position while the enemy soldier was bleeding to death, yelling all the while as if he was being dragged to Hell. The commotion this created prevented other enemies from stepping forward immediately into the breach, affording Eirak a precious few seconds to catch his breath. He grabbed Kergor’s body and dragged him back into the trench while soldiers were creating a shield-wall behind him to buy him a minute of peace.

“Sa.. sarge..”

Eirak blinked. He was still alive?! “Shut yer mouth Kerg, and keep yer strength. T’is ain’t over before I say so”

“Sar.. ge”

“Durn it, man! Since when do ye disobey me orders like a first year axelin’?” He sighed. “A’right, what is it now?”

“Per.. mis.. sion.. to die.. sah...”

Eirak’s vision blurred as he watched the closest thing he had to a friend expire at his feet, a familiar grin etched on what remained of his face.

“Sergeant!”

He whirled around, doing his level best to fight off tears he hadn’t thought he could still shed. He half-discerned corporal Darrek standing grimly at attention, doing his level best not to meet his eyes.

He forced steel into his voice before answering. “Report!”

“Sah! Lieutenant Kelbar sent me to warn ye the Raven Wing companies on yer right flank are retreatin’. They’re bein’ replaced by troops from the Fiery Death battalion, sah!”

Eirak stifled a curse.

Elves .. as if things weren’t bad enough already.

“A’right, corporal. Give the men the usual warnin’. Ye know the drill (6)”

“Sah!” Darrek saluted and left.

Eirak bent and quickly arranged Kergor’s corpse as was proper, right hand on his chest and left hand over it, touching the right vambrace. As he did so, he noticed a silver key tucked inside the left gauntlet. He didn’t know what it opened, but didn’t want to leave it on the battlefield. In the confusion, someone might steal it. So, he pocketed it.

Shouts from soldiers drew his attention back to the battle. Apparently, the Orgothian troops had regrouped for one final assault and were even now advancing on them, forming a shield-wall bristling with spears.

He yelled “CLOSE .. RANKS!” and stepped forward to take his place once again among his men.

“Maal’s infinitesimal mercy!”

The curse had come from his right and had been uttered by a voice filled with fear. He turned and silently repeated the oath. An elven battlemage was floating above the ground some distance away, apparently impervious to enemy’s arrows, and preparing a spell.

A spell aimed at the Orgothian troops.

The same Orgothian troops that were less than 20 feet away from them and closing fast...

He had only time enough to yell “TAKE COVER!” before they were all suddenly engulfed by an ice storm.

Hailstones the size of a pigeon’s egg pounded them relentlessly for several seconds, while an intense cold seeped into their bones, freezing them to the marrow.

**

“Sergeant”

A voice, cutting through the darkness. The kind of voice that expects instant obedience.

“Sergeant!”

The voice, stronger this time, accompanied by a strange noise.

He dimly realized the noise was made by his teeth chattering.

By a supreme effort of will, he managed to open his eyes and immediately spat blood. He was lying on the ground amidst other soldiers from his squad. Unmoving soldiers for the most part...

That pointy-eared bastard! I’ll-

“Sergeant-major, can you hear me?”

A large shadow fell over him. Light was filling the horizon. Dawn had come, finally. He raised his head and squinted. A horseman was standing there, others - at least two squads - behind him. He thought he saw a flash of gold at the level of the cavalryman’s head.

He grunted once.

The man chuckled. “I will take that for a yes.” His voice turned serious again. “You are to assemble your men and retreat. We will replace you here. The enemy is routed anyway. We just have to mop up what is left of them.”

There had been a hint of bravado Eirak didn’t much care for in that last statement. For a second, he felt tempted to tell the human that overconfidence often breeds disaster and to warn him Orgothians seldom allowed themselves to be butchered without a fight. But then, he remembered the same human was probably part of those who continued to turn a blind eye to the kind of mistake the elven battlemage had just made. So, he nodded once and remained silent.

The cavalry unit rode past as he was picking himself up.

He spat to clear his throat. “PLATOON COMMANDERS, REGROUP YER MEN! WE’RE OUT O’ HERE”

**

When he woke up in his bunk, night had fallen again. His wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. He actually felt strength coming back slowly into his limbs.

Wait.. somethin’ ain’t right here.

While he could hear voices and noises outside his tent - the usual background noise you come to expect from any military camp - he didn’t hear what he most expected. When soldiers win a war, even one that cost them dearly in terms of casualties, they celebrate. They get drunk and thank the gods for having been granted one more day of life. In short, they make a lot of noises. But, here, the noises and voices were kind of muted as if the soldiers didn’t have any reason to be merry. Indeed, it felt more like a wake.

He got up quickly.. and almost fell to the floor when a wave of dizziness overtook him. He grabbed the nearest pole and used it to steady himself while the sensation passed.

Groaning, he reached for his armor only to find out his shield and waraxe were gone. Cursing, he searched the tent but couldn’t find them.

“If ye’re strong enough to swear, ye’re strong enough to come with us sergeant” stated a voice from outside the tent.

Eirak opened a flap and stepped out, coming face to face with his direct superior, lieutenant Kelbar. The latter was grim-faced.. as were the two Defenders accompanying him.

Two Defenders just for me?! You’ve got to be kiddin’

“Sah!” he saluted.

“Ye’re to come with us without delay, sergeant. We waited till ye regained consciousness but this can’t wait any longer” and with that, the lieutenant turned and left while the Defenders moved to flank Eirak. Having no other option, he followed.

On his way to who-knows-where, Eirak noticed soldiers nearby stopped whatever they were doing to look at them. No, correction, they were looking at him! Some few displayed expressions of pity. Most had anger in their eyes. He even caught a few elves smirking openly.

T’is lookin’ better and better by the minute...

“Sah, could I at least know where ye’re takin’ me?” he asked.

Without stopping or turning, the lieutenant answered “To yer court martial, sergeant. Where else?”

Eirak’s heart skipped a beat.

**

Eirak was standing in a circle formed of members of the Defenders, elite soldiers all. Half were facing inward, watching his every move, while the other half were facing outward, probably watching for trouble. Not that he expected any given the trial had been set some distance away from the main camp. Torches had been positioned around him to form a smaller circle to which he was confined.

A large oaken table stood about 6 feet in front of him. Behind it sat three persons: lieutenant-colonel Steelbelly, with their battle standard at his back, captain Solmin, his company commander, and a human. The latter was tall and sinewy, the mark of a Drachen. He was in his early thirties, and wore a spotless full plate coated in silver along with a midnight-black cloak. His hair, beard, and moustache - all cropped short - matched the color of his cloak. Combined to his aquiline nose and piercing green eyes, they lent him an air of confidant authority. Even if Eirak had never seen him before, the golden scale-shaped pendant he wore would have betrayed his identity: Earl Saladar, Lord High Justice of Drachenhold.

Uh oh! I must really have stepped on the wrong foot this time.

Eirak’s shield and waraxe had been laid out on the table, in front of the lieutenant-colonel, to await the result of the trial as was customary.

Captain Solmin stood up, took a scroll and read it. “Sergeant-major Delkilar, you stand accused of dereliction of duty. Namely, you abandoned your post in front of the enemy. How do you plead?”

What the..! T’is got to be a nightmare!

He had to swallow twice before words accepted to form in his mouth. “Not guilty!”

Solmin seemed to sigh inwardly, as if he had expected as much. Steelbelly’s face was inscrutable, a frown etched into it. Saladar was looking annoyed, though Eirak got the distinct impression it wasn’t at him but rather at the whole situation.

What’s goin’ on here?

Solmin threw a side-glance at the other two before continuing. “Thus, you deny that your actions led to the death of Crown Prince Wolfgang and Prince Kaul?”

Eirak gaped, unable to believe what he had just heard. Then, he remembered the flash of gold and pieces started to fall into place.

Just like the King, the Crown Prince’s helm was customarily adorned with a golden crown (though less elaborate than the King’s own). The cavalry officer who had told him to retreat must have been Prince Wolfgang. And where Wolfgang rode, his brother Kaul was never far behind. Given both were dead, it wasn’t hard to guess what must have happened. They had probably ridden forth, ready to mop up the last Orgothians.. and had fallen into an ambush, or something like that.

Small wonder he was on trial! The King must have been beside himself with anger and grief. To lose two of his heirs on the same day...

Durn it! If only I hadn’t been half-stunned from that thrice-damned ice storm. If only I hadn’t been facin’ the risin’ sun. If only-

Solmin’s voice broke his reflection. “Sergeant-major, we are waiting for your answer.”

“I.. not guilt.. er.. I mean, aye”

He finally understood the look on their faces. The King must have demanded someone to blame for the whole mess, a scapegoat as it was. And that someone was to be him...

Saladar must have been the one receiving the order from the King and, as a nobleman, was duty bound to carry it out, no matter how unfair it was.

Steelbelly was probably smoldering inwardly, furious that one of his men had to take the blame and even more furious that his battalion’s honor would be sullied because of it.

Which left only Solmin. As commander of Eirak’s company, it had to be him who had singled him out. That would explain why the man wouldn’t meet his gaze squarely.

Eh.. but wait a minute..

Eirak cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice was steady again. “Sah, I didn’t desert me post with me men, I received a direct order to do so.”

Saladar looked at him intently. “Can you prove it, sergeant-major?”

Eirak thought for a minute before replying. “Well, the officer who gave me the order could confirm it but I’ve got a feelin’ he won’t be showin’ up as a surprise witness, right?”

The silence that followed was confirmation enough.

“Then, surely, one of me men must have heard-”

“They have been interrogated already, sergeant. Alas, none of them can corroborate your version. Either they had been knocked unconscious during the.. ah.. unfortunate accident that occurred just prior to that or they didn’t survive their wounds. Well, at least those men who would have been close enough to hear the officer give the order.. if he actually did, that is...”

Eirak gnashed his teeth in frustration.

Well, only one thing left to do then.

He locked gaze with Steelbelly and said, loud enough for all to hear: “On me beard, that’s how it happened, sah!” Then, he stood at attention, the living incarnation of righteous indignation.

Steelbelly turned crimson while Solmin looked about ready to die of embarrassment. And then.. the silence was shattered by Saladar’s laughter.

The Earl turned to his fellow jurors. “Gentlemen, I believe he got us there. Indeed, how do you refute the word of a man whose entire military life has revolved around the concept of honor?”

Saladar stood up and slowly walked till he stood in front of Eirak. By the time he spoke again, all mirth had left his eyes and his voice would have given the shivers to an honest man. “Understand this, sergeant-major, I don’t like this.. ah.. travesty any more than you do. That said, my.. our first duty is to the King.”

“And here I thought yours was to Justice and Truth.” The words had escaped Eirak’s mouth before he even realized he had pronounced them.

Me and me big mouth.

Saladar’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t be daft man! You know as well as I do that the word of the King is law. And, right now, the King grieves for his sons. Any father would. More so any father whose constant duty is to keep our kingdom in one piece. The King wants a culprit, so we will give him one.”

Saladar marked a pause for dramatic effect before adding “Or.. you could do the smart thing...”

“M’lord?”

“You have served in this battalion for some 20 years, I am told. That is two decades of exemplary service, judging by your decorations. Correct?” Saladar didn’t bother to wait for his answer before continuing. “Normally, the only way for one of you stout folks to retire is to either reach the end of your enlistment term or die in the line of duty. What if I told you there was a third way?”

Eirak raised an eyebrow interrogatively.

“Resign”

“What!? Never!” Eirak felt indignant at the very suggestion.

“Very well then. You will be convicted - my word on it. Being a soldier, the only penalty is - of course - death by hanging in front of your regiment. Your shame will sully the honor of your squad, not to mention your entire battalion.” He looked meaningfully at the battle standard proudly displayed behind a somber-faced lieutenant-colonel Steelbelly.

Eirak felt the world shattering under his feet.

“Wha.. what’s the alternative?”

Saladar smiled benignly. “I already told you: resign! Basically, you recognize you did not do the right thing at the right time. Oh, I am not asking you to lie. After all, you were heavily-wounded at the time, no? We will just state you weren’t fully coherent when you ordered your squad to retreat. By resigning, you shoulder the blame and avoid passing it on to your unit. Once you are a civilian, you will not depend on the code of military justice anymore and I will graciously pardon you as, say, a gesture of goodwill given your otherwise pristine career in the service of our nation. As Lord High Justice, that is my privilege. The King will not be happy but I can deal with that.”

Saladar walked back to his seat but, halfway there, stopped and turned around. “Oh, and the best thing is that you get to keep your precious beard (7)” he added genially.

“Of course, this little.. ah.. transaction stays between you and us” he finished, once he was seated. “Well?”

Eirak could feel knots forming in his stomach but knew he was cornered.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. Durn it!

“I accept” he snarled.

**

Eirak stood outside the army camp. The road to Korsk stretched out in front of him, filled with refugees who were slowly returning to villages that had been pillaged by the invaders.

He had been able to keep his armor and his waraxe but had had to exchange his steel shield for a wooden one, an unadorned one.

He sighed.

Soldiers he had campaigned with for years had spat on his path while he was leaving. Spat!

He laid his left hand on his right vambrace.

Battle-Father, give me strength.

“Hello there!” came a cheerful voice behind him.

He whirled.

A forest elf was standing a few feet away, leaning casually on a longbow. He wore the brown and green garb of a forester and a friendly smile on his face.

His elven face.

His cursed pointy-eared face.

Eirak growled and unsheathed his waraxe. He took a step forward.

The elf backed off hastily while raising his hands in a gesture of peace.

“Sherth! Calm yourself, friend! I come in peace, no blood to spill save in answer.”

Eirak barely restrained himself. “Speak quickly or begone!”

The elf’s smile returned. “My name is Aniel, and my little finger tells me you have a silver key in your possession.”

Kerg’s key? Durn! I had forgotten about it.

“If you do” the elf continued “I have a proposition for you. A lucrative proposition at that.”

Alone, jobless, and penniless, Eirak gave the only possible answer. “Start talkin’..”

**********
(1) Hence the Iron Badger’s motto: “Give me honor, or give me death!”

(2) Son of the wargod Terak, the greatest mortal warrior who ever existed.

(3) Sundered dwarves have lived in perpetual shame ever since the Cataclysm forced them to leave their underground home to become wretched refugees in the World-Above. As such, they stubbornly refuse to grow a beard. Only by joining the military do they regain (in their own opinion) a shred of honor and earn the right to a beard again. Thus, it is relatively easy to judge how long a particular dwarf has served based on the length of his beard. More so given they have taken the habit of braiding their decorations in it. Once they leave the army, they can retain their beard but must keep it at the exact length it was at the time.

(4) When the Cataclysm brought their cavern-home crashing down on them (literally!), the ancestors of the sundered dwarves became convinced Rontra, goddess of the earth, a deity they had honored above all others (save Korak), had betrayed them. Since then, they have refused to worship her in any way and, indeed, continue to curse her name to this day.

(5) Provincial capital of the Duchy of Karameikos.

(6) Ever since the dwarves fought on the side of the humans during the Forest War, the elves of Suress (especially the forest elves) have borne them a grudge. Even though the two races are now part of the same kingdom and, supposedly, fight on the same side, it’s not unheard-of for elven units to target mistakenly dwarven units in the heat of battle. Of course, the elven officers always apologize afterwards but the damage is done. Usually, army commanders don’t make those units fight side by side unless they have no other choice.

(7) It is customary for dwarves serving in the military and earning the death penalty to shave their beard in shame before their execution is carried out.

**********

 

[Herremann the Wise]

Mortepierre,

Now that's a way to start a story! Well written and described.

I look forward to reading more with the possibility of Saladar one day feeling the impact of Eirak's axe penetrating the bridge of his nose.
I love revenge stories.

Best Regards
Herremann the Wise

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

Nice start!

You really have some serious talent.

I look forward to more.

Blackdirge

 

[Mortepierre]

Mortepierre,

Now that's a way to start a story! Well written and described.

I look forward to reading more with the possibility of Saladar one day feeling the impact of Eirak's axe penetrating the bridge of his nose.

I love revenge stories.

Thank you for the compliments!

The fun part about Saladar is that, in his opinion, he was really doing Eirak a favor. Of course, our grumpy dwarf didn’t quite see it that way and when they met again later on (in a few chapters) he was sorely tempted indeed to “greet him with extreme prejudice” as the player himself put it at the time. But that is a story for another day...

Nice start!

You really have some serious talent.

I look forward to more.

Gosh! From the Monster-Master himself?! I am honored

And now to introduce our second would-be hero...

 

[Mortepierre]

Prelude - part 2: Heart of Stone

Drachenhold - Principality of Suress
399 AC - Stone elves territory

Pelrind ascended (1).

Instantly, his body registered pressure all over his skin, combined with coldness. Moreover, when he tried to fill his lungs, his nose refused to obey, as if it was blocked. He tried to use his mouth and managed to gulp down some air through what seemed to be a small pipe held between his teeth. His eyes revealed nothing given he was apparently blindfolded.

So, naturally, he panicked.

Unfortunately, he was held tight, incapable of even the most rudimentary movement.

Then, the truth dawned on him.

Of course I can’t move. Hardly surprising when you are buried alive.

He forced his body to relax while his mind slowly remembered the chain of events that had led to this situation...

**

It happened in the middle of the second century after the Cataclysm, right after the conclusion of the second Forest War, when the humans from Drachenhold and the elves from Suress had banded together for the first time in history to defeat the humanoid army that the druids had assembled to punish the humans. Druids - even elven druids - who had until then enjoyed the protection of the elven woods suddenly found themselves very unwelcome, if not hunted down. Not that there were many of them left...

Most surviving druids were humanoids. When their troops had been defeated, they had blamed their elven and human brothers for it and either retreated north or returned to the Wild Coast. Reviled by all, forced to withdraw to the most inhospitable locations to avoid being slaughtered, the few humans and elves still alive realized they were facing extinction.

Then, almost miraculously, one of them - a human named Dvorr - had an epiphany. They had been fighting the wrong battle from the start!

The very first druids, if legend was to be believed, had been a group of folks who discovered the location of Eliwyn’s grove (2) and became its self-appointed caretakers. Their disciples later spread throughout the world and assumed custody of the animals and plants which they perceived as Eliwyn’s defenseless lesser kin.

According to Dvorr, that had been a terrible mistake. While he admitted that protecting Eliwyn was important, he postulated that their primary duty beyond that task was to the world itself. And what was the world if not a combination of the four basic elements? Indeed, those very same elements had become the first-generation gods in the mythology of most cultures.

Essentially, animals and plants were but by-products of the world. As such, they were important only inasmuch as their destruction endangered the world itself. What really mattered was to maintain the elemental equilibrium on which the world was based.

The elves, with their concept of Ahlenh Gonh (3) - which they used to power their sorcery - were simply tapping an energy source that sprang from that balance.

Dvorr theorized that the world could be divided into zones. Each zone was composed of a mix of the four elements, with some elements being dominant and others being dominated. For example, a range of mountains was clearly dominated by Earth and Air, while a marsh was dominated by Earth and Water, etc...

Even if each zone was dominated by one (or more) element(s), the sum of all the zones was still balanced. For instance, if a certain number of zones were dominated by, say, Water, then an equal number of zones elsewhere saw Water being dominated by another element.

Furthermore, to maintain that equilibrium, the world used what he dubbed the dynamics of chaos. If the balance was disturbed locally, the world would react violently through natural phenomena to correct the problem. For example, if a lake was drained in a zone, the world would flood another zone to compensate (the crucial point being the preservation of the overall balance).

The problem was that when the world reacted in this way, it was blind to the consequences for the races that occupied the zone targeted. The elemental balance would be restored but the native life forms would have sustained heavy casualties in the process.

That was the kind of problem they should have been tracking and correcting instead of warring against humans determined to cut down a few trees. And since most races didn’t have the means to drastically modify the local elemental equilibrium of the zones where they lived, the druids would be less likely to arouse the ire of the natives.

The others were doubtful. After all, what he was asking them would change radically their way of life. But, at the same time, they recognized that his proposal was intriguing, if not appealing. Druids already manipulated elemental energies through their spells, so this wasn’t completely new to them.

Two accepted to become his disciples, an elf called Unula and a human named Saterus. They followed him deep into the wilderness and, there, experimented his theories. They refined their understanding of the nature of the elements through meditation, purification rituals, spellcasting and frequent dialogues with creatures they summoned from the four Elemental Pillars (4).

Dvorr wrote down the sum of his reflections in a book he titled the Codex Natura. He gave a copy to each of his disciples and then told them he needed to depart for a time on a journey through the Elemental Pillars themselves. Until his return, they would be in charge of implementing his teachings.

Saterus and Unula returned to the others, filled with a new purpose. They formed disciples of their own and, little by little, the new order grew. By respect for its founder, they called themselves the Adepts of Dvorr, a name that was soon abbreviated into Dvorraks.

As time passed, it became obvious that Saterus and Unula didn’t see eye to eye on one important subject. Saterus believed that they were the world’s vengeful hand. If the equilibrium of a zone was disturbed, it was up to them to choose another zone and disturb it in return before the world had a chance to act on its own (often with far more devastating consequences). Unula, on the other hand, was convinced that their duty was to prevent zones from being disturbed in the first place or, if not possible, to restore the zones concerned before the world had to step in.

Their disciples, of course, polarized along their points of view. Soon, fights broke out between proponents of what had become two divergent philosophical trends. And since members of both factions specialized in elemental spells, the battles proved to be not only extremely violent but also terribly destructive.

Fortunately, both Saterus and Unula quickly realized that the only consequence of this fratricidal conflict would be to undermine everything they had built, jeopardizing Dvorr’s dream. Calling together all the Dvorraks, they announced a few changes to the organization.

First, the members would be divided into four castes. In ascending order: Novices, Adepts, Masters, and Disciples. Advancement from one caste to the next would be based not only on personal power but also on one’s understanding of Dvorr’s theories (5). Furthermore, only Masters and Disciples would be authorized to train new Novices.

Second, Novices were forbidden to take direct action to protect the balance unless acting under the supervision of a member of Adept (or higher) rank.

Third, if it was determined that a given zone had truly become unbalanced, all members present in that zone (whatever their respective rank) would assemble and suggest possible courses of action. Then, they would settle on the one to follow through a majority vote and band together to implement it. The highest ranking member would be in command for the duration of that mission.

These new rules nipped the schism in the bud.. at least in appearance... (6)

**

Roughly 200 years later, the order was still growing though certain of its most cynical members would have referred to its condition as stagnating instead.

Dvorr had never come back. Infrequently, elemental creatures summoned by the Adepts would hint that he had been seen. However, any evidence offered always proved inconclusive. Saterus had died of old age but his philosophy had survived him. Unula was still alive and, now, the only member experienced enough to claim the rank of Disciple.

The Dvorraks had slowly found acceptance anew among the elves although the latter refused to grant them the same kind of unconditional support they had once given to the druids. Among humans, the situation was far from idyllic due to the kind of new members the order recruited (7). Mostly, the Dvorraks suffered from incomprehension. Commoners could understand a druid’s desire to protect animals and plants, but the concept of protecting the world’s elemental balance was utterly alien to them. Even local authorities didn’t quite know what to make of them. Hence, most humans still viewed them as druids, only crazier than before.

**

Like all Stone Elves, Pelrind had felt a deep respect for the mountainous home of his race from the moment of his birth. But this appreciation was coupled with an affinity for the earth that few shared among his clan. He would often disappear for hours, following crevices and galleries that led deeper than the territory claimed by his village. There, alone in the dark, he would listen - motionless - till hunger forced him to return home.

One day, his parents - worried about his safety - asked him to explain what he found so fascinating down there. He simply replied that the Earth was talking to him all the time but that it was only when he was far enough from other living beings that the words started to make sense. Hence, the need to go where he wouldn’t be disturbed.

At first, his family thought that it meant he was destined to become a Life-Shaper (8), a rare vocation that would bring much honor to their clan. Thus, they took him to the local mage, certain the latter would grant him an apprenticeship. Alas, it was not to be. The mage told them the kinship Pelrind felt toward the Earth went beyond the respect a mage has for the elements. His true calling lay elsewhere. However, he knew someone who might help and offered to take Pelrind to that person.

Embarrassed but determined to let their son’s potential express itself fully, the parents agreed. One week later, Pelrind was taken deep into the mountains to the isolated home of an old elven woman who introduced herself as Unula. When he told her he could hear the Earth talk, she simply asked him if he would like to learn how to answer. Awed, he agreed earnestly and - without knowing it - took the first step toward joining the order.

He stayed with her for 20 years, studying at her feet as she had once learnt from Dvorr. Then, she sent him to a Saterist Master to insure he would be introduced to what she called the other ring of the same bell. When he returned to her, 10 years later, she pronounced him ready to take the First Test (9).

Naming the Earth as his element of choice was the easy part. Being told he would need to be buried alive proved to be harder...

**

And so, I ended up here he thought.

His mistress had taken him to a small, isolated glen. Once there, she had told him to dig a hole - with his bare hands - deep enough for him to sit with the top of his head beneath the ground. Before going in, she had made him take off all his clothes - apart from a blindfold to protect his eyes. To enter the Earth’s womb, he needed to be naked like a newborn. Once inside, he was given a long reed pipe, his one link with the surface and the only way for him to breathe. Then, she had buried him. He would stay that way until the Earth accepted him.

At first, he had thought it merely involved waiting patiently for a sign. So, he had meditated to while away the time. Unfortunately, hours later, he was still waiting for the sign...

This is great he sighed inwardly. Buried alive. I should have chosen Air or Water! Well, maybe not Water. Drowning is like suffocating after all. I wonder if anyone ever chooses Fire..

He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what being accepted by Fire could entail.

Wait.. maybe I am going about this the wrong way. Could it be symbolic?

He started to recap mentally what the Codex Natura stated about the Earth.

It is cold and dry. Solid and steady.

Earth is the strongest of the four elements. It symbolizes the physical world.

Its associated shape is the cube and its related number is 1.

Hmm.. a cube has 8 corners, so why pick 1 instead of 8? Even if Dvorr viewed the cube as a square, its corresponding surface, the number would be 4, not 1.

This reflection triggered a buried memory about a lesson Unula had given him long ago.

It was something about the.. - how did she call it? - ah yes, the Unity Principle. As the embodiment of the world, Earth is the link between the other 3 elements.

With every square inch of his body in contact with the surrounding soil, he could feel the tiniest vibration coursing through the Earth if he concentrated hard enough. Slowly, he became aware of one muted but steady throb, like a giant pulse...

He forced his own heartbeat to slow to match it. Dimly, without even realizing it, his consciousness started to expand.

Molten lava was traveling through tunnels that were old when the world was still young, like veins of Fire.

Rain was seeping through the surface, gathering in huge pools of Water underground, before being released once again via rivers, sources and wells, like perspiration or tears.

And Air was sweeping in through every cranny to dance inside deep caverns, like lungs filling when you breathe.

Of course.. one body, one world. We are as one...

Suddenly, he felt sunlight warming his face. Surprised, he tried to move and registered no pressure upon his limbs. He was free! He took off his blindfold but put it back on immediately when the harsh glare of the sun stabbed through his eyes.

“Careful fiuran, give your body time to adapt once again” said a voice he knew well.

Fiuran.. Novice.. I passed?

He took off his blindfold again, more slowly this time and, squinting, looked at his feet. The ground was undisturbed as if no hole had ever been dug in it. He frowned, puzzled.

“Aosda, was this just.. an illusion?”

Unula smiled enigmatically. “What does your heart tell you?”

He concentrated, listening within him. The familiar pulse of his heart was there, as always, but he was surprised to discover another pulse that seemed to emanate from the very core of his being. A slow but steady pulse.. as if..

“The Earth! I can feel it ins-”

“Shhhh.. do not say it aloud” she interrupted, gently putting two fingers over his mouth. “Each element has a secret, something It reveals only to those with the patience to listen and the will to embrace them fully. Those secrets are never discussed openly, not even among ourselves, for each of us must discover them on his or her own. But know this: you will never be alone anymore. Wherever you go, whatever you do, that will always be a part of you.” She put her right palm over his heart and smiled again, but benignly this time, as a sister might smile to a younger brother.

He smiled in return and then bowed respectfully. “Thank you, Aosda, I will remember. Always.”

Abruptly, it dawned on him that he wasn’t a pupil anymore. After spending the last 30 years of his life studying, he would be left without guidance. A daunting prospect.

“Er.. but what am I supposed to do now?” he asked sheepishly.

“Now? Now, you start your journey. It is time for you to learn more of the world you live in. When you feel you have learnt enough, come back to us for your Second Test.”

He bowed once again, filled at once with elation and dread.

“Before you go” she added, “I have something for you. Call it a parting gift if you will”. She held out a small item to him.

He took it, looked closely and wondered.

A silver key?

Unula smiled enigmatically again. “Let’s just say this should open the door to many adventures for you...”

**********
(1) Suressian elves view their routine meditation as a merging of their consciousness with their inner spirit to bring them in phase once again after a day spent interacting with the material world. Hence, entering this meditative state is described as descending (within themselves), and leaving it as ascending.

(2) Eliwyn, also known as the Life-Tree (or World-Tree), was the last “child” of the first-generation (elemental) gods. On her were born the four races that are considered to have a soul (dwarves, gobbers, halflings, and humans). A fifth race is rumored to be still ripening on her branches. For a long time, the goddess Thellyne protected Eliwyn’s grove.. until the forefathers of the druids showed up and offered to take over.

(3) “Life Stream”

(4) In this setting, the elemental planes are likened to 4 mighty pillars on which the world is built.

(5) In game terms, that translates into prerequisites based on certain feats, skill ranks in Knowledge (nature) and Knowledge (the Planes), as well as mastery of one (or more) elemental language(s), and access to certain spells.

(6) From overt, the feud between Saterists and Unulians became covert. Masters began to train as many Novices as they could to insure their philosophy would be a majority in all the zones protected by the order.

(7) As of 400 AC, the order’s membership is made up primarily of elves and humans. Roughly a 45-50% proportion, with the last 5% consisting of other races. Members are recruited exclusively among bards (very rarely), druids and/or sorcerers. No cleric, holy warrior, or wizard is ever allowed to join. Still, all in all, one would be hard-pressed to assemble more than a hundred members (of which only 15% are of Master rank).

(8) Elven mages (most of them being Sorcerers actually) are in charge of protecting the life force of their fellow citizens and of “shaping” their environment (be it made of wood or stone). Hence, their spells concentrate on Abjuration, (White) Necromancy and Transmutation.

(9) Despite the fact that they are taught early on to respect all four elements, all members of the order must choose one which they endeavor to master in all its aspects. The First Test (becoming a Novice) involves earning acceptance from their element of choice. The Second Test (becoming an Adept) is about proving they have gained thorough knowledge of it. The Third Test (becoming a Master) demonstrates their mastery - through magic - of that element. Few Dvorraks who have reached the rank of Master devote time to mastering the other 3 elements. Those who do so all hope to, one day, become a Disciple.

**********

 

[Nasma]

Great story so far, can't wait to meet the other PCs and see the campaign begin.

 

[ledded]

*Great* story so far; very engaging, it sucked me in without a second glance.


Your worldbuilding is extremely interesting, and so far, masterful in it's crafting.

I will be keeping tabs on this one to see how it develops. Keep up the good work.

 

[Mortepierre]

Great story so far, can't wait to meet the other PCs and see the campaign begin.

*Great* story so far; very engaging, it sucked me in without a second glance.

Your worldbuilding is extremely interesting, and so far, masterful in its crafting.

I will be keeping tabs on this one to see how it develops. Keep up the good work.

Thank you both!

To be fair, though, I have to give credit where credit is due. My toughest job here is to act as a translator. I am sure that, by now, it’s obvious English isn’t our group’s mother language.

The “Preludes” series is made up primarily of the backgrounds my players developed, so I consider it more as a tribute to their own imagination than as an introduction to my campaign.

I must say, it’s the first time in a long while that creating characters was so enjoyable to me as a DM. Since my world is quite complex, a majority of my players chose to involve me in the process early on (probably to reap the “background integrates elements and/or events requested by the DM” reward ).

Eirak’s player had planned his whole background based on where he wanted his character to go (stat-wise). He surprised me though by requesting to play a part in the death of the two princes, an event he had spotted in my History file. He got what he wished for.. and a bit more in the bargain (DM’s prerogative). He actually had to role-play the whole trial (mainly because I wanted at least one of the players to have met Saladar before the campaign began).

Kalveig and Pelrind’s players had great character’s concepts but weren’t too concerned about game-mechanics as long as it allowed them to role-play what they had in mind.

Pelrind’s use of both druidic and sorcerous powers posed an intriguing problem given how both classes are treated by natives. So, I took his basic idea about an elementalist and built on it to create a semi-secret society concerned by the World’s "elemental balance".

Originally, Kalveig had chosen to play a Holy Warrior of Darmon (god of joy, merchants, messengers, and thieves) but when he heard of my problems with Siubhan’s player, he shifted to Morwyn and rewrote his entire background to incorporate her. Since then, he has acted as her “role-play councilor” during gaming sessions. What can I say? The guy is a paladin at heart...

Musadoc is played by a total newbie, both to role-play and game-mechanics. What he lacks in experience though, he more than makes up in sheer enthusiasm. Simply put, he’ll try anything as long as you give him a chance to prove himself. That was very refreshing to me

The only problem I had with him was that he had browsed the info I had given them about the Holy Warrior class and desperately wanted to play one with access to the Fire domain. Of course, he had picked the only one that wasn’t available (you’ll understand why when you read his background). It required a bit of creative thinking but IMHO the solution allowed him to have what he requested and to contribute something “special” to the team.

Siubhan.. that was something else entirely. She is played by a veteran powergamer that had just joined our group. She could optimize a character faster than you can say “fireball!” but was relatively new to the concept of role-play

I can still remember her remark when she learnt that there were only two gods available if you wanted a cleric able to cast Cure spells:

Are you saying that my only choice is to play either a farmer or a pacifist?!

Unfortunately for her, my campaigns have always been more about “role-play” than “roll-play”.

Note that I am not saying this to disparage her in any way. She is really a nice person, and there is nothing wrong with knowing the rules inside out. It’s just that she didn’t understand - at first - why role-play was so important to the rest of us. Fortunately, Kalveig’s player stepped in at this point and, since she didn’t want to spend time on a background, offered to include her in his.

Incidentally, that explains why her character might look more proactive during fights than during talks in the first few chapters.

I’ve got to give her this though: in the (almost) two years we have played together, she has come a long way. She’s still a powergamer first and foremost but methink she has grown to recognize the value of role-play as well.

When you think about it, it all depends on the DM. If role-play gets you nowhere, you’re not exactly motivated to try it out.

For her, the turning point was during our second gaming session when - SPOILER! - creative role-play allowed the team to avoid a TPK. I could almost picture the wheels turning in her head as she pondered what had happened. Oh, and Kalveig’s player has been a great teacher too.

Well, enough chat. Back to work!