The Haunted

*Blows dust off blog*

Marvellous. You're still here.

Things have been quiet on the blog for the past two or three months. I'm pleased to report that I've been busy writing one of the upcoming Adventurers League scenarios for 5th Edition D&D: "Outlaws of the Iron Route". It's part of the "Tyranny of Dragons" storyline, and it's going to debut in November at the Gamehole Convention in Wisconsin. I'd love to be there, but you know - thousands of miles away. If you get a chance to go, I'd get a real kick from hearing how the scenario played out for you.

A mysterious entity manifests! Art by Tjaart Kruger.

All this 5th Edition malarkey has got me fired up to get started on my own campaign. In fact, right now I'm gearing up for DMing two regular games, and consequently, we've been mulling over a whole bunch of new character ideas. Stacey's got this idea for playing a warlock who's haunted by the spirit of her elfin husband: she's planning her as a mix between Michonne from Walking Dead, and some sort of medium. I figured that instead of just winging this in-game, it would be cool to codify the haunting with some actual rules. A background seemed appropriate (I think backgrounds have promise for defining heroic character concepts as well providing mundane origins).

So, to kick this blog back into shape, here's the "Haunted" 5th Edition background. Use it to play any cursed, spirit-hounded, or demon-possessed character that comes to mind. I think it would work well for a warlock or a necromancer.

The Yellow Banner

The Yellow Banner flies above Fallcrest!

The Company of the Yellow Banner is my original 4th Edition adventuring party. We've been playing fairly regularly since 2009, and are now midway through the official HPE series of adventures. The characters are all 15th level, but we've hardly stuck to the books: I couldn't say how many sessions we've whiled away on side-quests, personal character arcs, and other random adventures. I gave up tracking XP ages ago, and now just level the party when it seems appropriate to the story.

The name stems from an early picture that Sandy drew of his character, the warlord
Brixton. He carried a magnificent yellow pennant, which in-game he proudly brandished at every opportunity. Brixton was beaten down in almost every one of those early fights, but he always gritted his teeth, spat out blood with a grin, and stood up to bring the pain to his enemies. His unstoppable resolve rallied his allies, and at the climax of "Keep on the Shadowfell" each member of the party tore a strip from the pennant and tied it around their arms as a sign of unity.

As they headed into the paragon tier I turned the Yellow Banner into an artifact for the group. I was inspired by a short campaign we'd played with another DM, who'd entrusted our characters with a dangerous supernatural artifact called the Ark. The Ark had a bank of power that could be tapped to heal allies, detect spirits, and lash out at enemies: basically padding out any of the character roles that the party was missing. It was a clever idea, and one that stuck with me for a long while. With the Yellow Banner I initially gave each player their own unique banner power, with each power tapping a shared pool of "Glory" that was built up over time through winning battles. In addition, the banner absorbed the soul energy of any companion characters who died in sight of it, allowing the PCs to call upon them for aid after their deaths. As I don't allow companions to be raised, this added a feeling of ongoing legacy to the artifact, with each dead NPC adding a unique power to its repertoire.

Unfortunately, in play all those powers became a little fiddly: we kept forgetting to add Glory, and the players rarely used their character's banner powers. The banner's main power - adding to the damage of all allies in range - remained pretty solid, but the powers themselves were either too conditional to use or too easy to forget. One of my players recently suggested that I rework the Yellow Banner into something new. I've been inspired recently by 13th Age, so I thought I'd integrate the "Escalation Die" from that system into the artifact. For those who don't know, the Escalation Die is a mechanic for speeding up combat that adds +1 to the players' attack rolls for every round that passes, up to maximum of +6. I like the rule, but I find it a little artificial, as it's a purely mechanical abstraction. I think integrating it to our artifact explains that bonus a little better. I ended up dropping the banner's old character powers, but kept its companion powers, which I reworked to improve alongside the Escalation Die.

Anyway, take a look. We'll see how it plays in our next game!  

Mind Blast! 5E Pregen Characters

Intellect Devourers prey on the weak in "Mind Blast!"

Last month I put together a submission for the D&D Next Adventure Contest over at EN World: which ended up as "Mind Blast!", an adventure for 4th level characters. The submissions are being judged throughout March, after which they'll be available for everyone to download from the site. Once the winner is announced, I'll also share "Mind Blast!" here on the blog.

I've created some pregens for the adventure using my own character sheets. I stuck to the classics - dwarf fighter, halfling thief, elf wizard and human cleric - but backgrounds and "chunky feats" made them more unique. This aspect of 5E is a winner. Players get fewer choices - great for newcomers - but the results feel more meaningful, and enable some fantastic concepts: jester paladin, wizard thug, and so on. I also like that some of the old prestige classes (or class features) have been folded into feats that are available to all.

Anyway, here's the party (download links at the bottom of the post). There's nothing here that ties these characters explicitly to the adventure, so they should work for any campaign. And as ever, many thanks to the lovely Stacey for all the art you see here!

GLAIVE IRONCASTLE, HUMAN CLERIC 4
Raised as a priest of the Sun God, Glaive turned to the God of War after murderous raiders sacked his monastery. Now he travels the realm in search of criminals to bring to justice. 

Time has tempered the furies of Glaive’s youth, and he takes no pleasure from killing. He seems weary beyond his years, and is fond of simple pleasures: good friends, peace and cool beer.     

MERIOL WINTERGROVE, ELF MAGE 4 
Ancient spirits of nature taught Meriol her craft. She carves her spells onto bark tablets, and infuses her longbow with primal power. Now she roams the wild, protecting the natural order of things.

Meriol has spent more time amongst wood elves than her high elf kin, and thus shares many wood elf traits. She is quick to anger, full of mirth, and flighty as the wind. 

EZMARIA JINK, HALFLING ROGUE 4

For years, Ezmaria plied her trade as a wandering charlatan, selling crank cures and potions across the Realm. Glaive eventually arrested her, and offered her a choice between going to prison and working as his underworld informer. She has since formed a new persona as “Kara the Knife”; fence and smuggler – a role that’s certainly taught her how to handle herself!

GORI BATTLEBORN, DWARF FIGHTER 4
Gori was exiled from the mountain holds after his love affair with the Princess Royal was exposed. He has since spent many years in the lowlands, but yearns to return some day to the mountains and elope with his beloved.

Gori is more open-hearted than most dwarves, and gets on well with humans. Like the rest of his kin, he enjoys singing and drinking.   



                    
                 

D&D Next Adventure Contest

We're now halfway through the submission period for EN World's D&D Next Adventure Contest. The challenge is to write an adventure based around one of five ready-made maps, with entries judged by a panel of star judges. The winner gets a print copy of "Ghosts of Dragonspear Castle" signed by the Wizards of the Coast staff. If you haven't started writing, you now have just under two weeks to put together your own submission!

So far my adventure features a mind-flayer, some intellect devourers, and a young cook whose mind has been accidentally swapped into the body of an owlbear. "Mind Blast!" is a bit of a lighthearted adventure, and I'm having a hoot writing it (excuse the pun).

I'll have more to share when I'm done, but for now I just wanted to show off one of the pictures that Stacey has drawn for the adventure. This is poor Greta the Owlbear, and she'd very much like her body back!

My D&D Next Character Sheet

Behold the first page of my D&D Next character sheet!

Playing D&D Next, I've struggled to find decent character sheets that reflect the latest iteration of the rules. Those that do often seem to display too little or too much information, are too cramped, or are a bit ugly (I name no names).

In the end I decided to make my own, which I'm sharing here for your use and pleasure. It may not be a perfect design, but it's done the job for us so far. I've tried to keep mechanical stuff on the front page, and roleplay stuff on the back page (plus gear). I didn't bother with item slots, as they're less hardwired into Next. All spell information has been consigned onto an optional third sheet, which is how I prefer it.

Typically, I've since stumbled across some fantastic sheets out there on the internet, making the whole exercise a little redundant. Such is life.

Dungeon 219: Blades of the Stygian Masque

The fiendish Contessa Volto, masterfully painted by Chris Seaman.

The Halloween issue of Dungeon features my latest adventure: a hellish dungeon crawl for 27th level characters entitled "Blades of the Stygian Masque". Originally conceived for Fourthcore fans, I decided to take a punt and pitch it to Wizards before writing. Given its lethality I was quite surprised they ran with it, and especially pleased that it sailed through without a great deal of mechanical change. In the twilight of the edition, it's great to see some experimentation occurring within the e-zines.  

For those who don't know, Fourthcore puts the deadly back into 4th Edition, featuring truly lethal traps, cunning puzzles, and combats poised to punish poor tactics. I wanted to create a Fourthcore adventure that focused on combat over puzzles: in a sense, a "Tomb of Horrors" with deadly monsters instead of traps. 4th Edition does combat so well, so I wanted this to be my tribute to that.

My core mechanic was the hundred howling daggers: a set of flying blades spread throughout the dungeon, with each devilish "boss" carrying ten to twenty daggers. The PCs claim the daggers by slaying the bosses, enabling them to turn them against the others. Mechanically, each bound dagger adds one point of damage to every successful attack (whether ranged or melee). If assigned to a single party member - a striker, say - he or she can end up dealing an additional 80 damage per turn by the final boss encounter. The risk comes from that character then dying or falling unconscious - as this causes their daggers to fly wild, automatically dealing damage to every creature nearby until they're rebound. This created some beautifully desperate moments during playtesting, as PCs and enemies alike scrambled to bind the daggers before they eviscerated everyone on the battlefield.

Ultimately I ended up removing some of the deadlier Fourthcore elements, but I kept the daggers at the adventure's heart. I also put a lot of work into designing the opposition: giving them traits that split the party and keep the battlefield in flux. In the end I came to look upon "Blades of the Stygian Masque" as being more akin to one of the "Lair Assault" Encounter seasons, rather than a pure Fourthcore adventure. Hopefully I found a happy balance - but I'll let you be the judge of that!

Dungeon 215: The Rolling Tomb

William O'Connor's depiction of  Sacrademus, a villain from my "Rolling Tomb" adventure.

Around this time last year my first adventure pitch was accepted for "Tears of the Crocodile God". The last twelve months have been amazing - I've written four adventures for Wizards of the Coast, and I'm currently wrapping up my fifth. My third adventure - "The Rolling Tomb" - has just now been published in Dungeon 215. It's a piece of writing I'm quite proud of, and I really hope you get the chance to read through and play it!

"The Rolling Tomb" was based on one of Chris Perkins' ideas: a moving pyramid that crushes everything in its path. I'll admit taking on an epic-tier adventure was a bit of a challenge - I hadn't much experience running high-level games under 4E, so I had gravitate back to my longer-running 3E campaigns for inspiration. If you read through the encounters, you may notice nods to my favourite sourcebooks: "Sandstorm" and "Dungeonscape" in particular. For encounter construction I owe a lot to Sly Flourish's "Running Epic Tier D&D Games", whose advice inspired a number of villainous twists. Mike Shea is a top-notch designer, and I'd recommend his guide to DMs tackling high-level adventures in any system. "Running Epic Tier D&D Games" is currently being given away for free, so there's no excuse not to check it out!

Speaking of freebies, I'd advise any 4E fans here to check out fellow blogger frothsof's awesome fanzine "4E Forever": a mammoth 154 pages of houserules, monsters, traps, adventures and other crunchy goodness, dressed up in a pleasing OSR style. Frothsof really liked my Scalemail mass combat system, and asked me if he could include it in the fanzine - for which I'm very honoured. He even did a guest interview with me over on his blog, which you can check out here.  Scalemail has been reflavoured to fit the fanzine's own in-house world, and is now the chosen mass combat system for further submissions. Thanks frothsof! 

L is for Linnorm

"Doesn't matter how many legs we've got, we'll still give you a kicking!"

Linnorms are powerful monsters closely related to dragons. Like dragons, they also come in different breeds: forest, frost, land, grey, and so on. While none have wings, there's an inconsistency about how many legs they have: with some having just two, and others having four. Again, this could have something to do with real myth, as the linnorm (or "lindworm" to us English) can represent a variety of mythological dragons: whether wingless, legless, or bipedal. 

My personal favourite is the Lambton Worm, a monster from County Durham that grew inside a well after being dumped there by a young fisherman. Eventually it started eating children and livestock, forcing the lord of the manor to appease it with vast offerings of milk. Numerous villagers died trying to slay the beast, until at last it fell to the young fisherman who caught it - now a knight back from the crusades. He fought it wearing a specialised suit of armour covered in sharpened spear heads, which cut the worm to ribbons as it coiled around him. Now that's a D&D plan if ever I've heard one!  

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 5: Odinessa

The legendary City of Ropes welcomes a new dawn.

I think this is the first map I've drawn that really hits the "big story" of Drowned Kingdoms: a world ruled by an ancient order of giants, perched on the brink of a new age.

Locked away in their towers and embroiled in petty politics, the giants have unwittingly ceded control to trusted stewards from the "mannish" races. I can picture the Groaning King tramping through his ramshackle hall, tended by degenerate servants, while his scheming steward runs the busy metropolis below. Odinessa also gives me a chance to explore one of the new classes from the latest packet - the warden - which manifests in Next as a "green knight" variant of the paladin. For Drowned Kingdoms I've made these the guardians of the city's great roc, which protects Odinessa from attack by scooping up ships and dashing them against the cliffs.

This is also the last map I intend to draw from the Widowing Sea region. Next up we're going on a trip to the mountains, where we'll explore some of the Highland Kingdom!

ODINESSA 

The "City of Ropes" is the gateway between the Widowing Sea and the upper reaches of the Highland Kingdom. Its citizens belong to the Groaning King of the stone giants, who rules from a castle overlooking the city.  

Population: 8,434 (85% human, 10% halfling, 5% other). Humans make up the vast proportion of Odinessa's population, with most indentured into service with one of the great guilds. The city's halflings are a throwback to the grim days of giantry, when most inhabitants worked as slaves in the king's castle (and halflings were prized as cooks). 

Government: The Groaning King may govern in principle, but the city is ruled by his steward: an office currently held by Bourne Cavendish, baseborn son of the late Lord Cavendish. "The Bastard" rules with an iron fist, and has brought the city's guilds to heel through a winning combination of threats, bribery and murder. Rumour has it that he clamours for yet more power, and is turning his eyes overseas in search of conquest.  

Inns and Taverns: Most of Odinessa's inns and taverns are found in the Wash: the tangle of streets honeycombing the city's crowded docks. Ragwork's mighty meadhall still does a roaring trade, even though the drink now comes at a price (under giantry, each of the king's slaves was granted a free flask of mead at the close of each day).  

Supplies: Odinessa was once a thoroughfare for highland merchants, with goods hoisted up and down its cliffs on massive rope lifts. Such industry collapsed along with the king's court, and now its ropes hang rotten. Today the city's trade is tied up by the guilds, with Odinessa supplying a steady stream of valuable ores and minerals to the economy of the sea kingdoms. Visitors should seek out the Crown Market, where trade goods can be purchased from all over the ocean.   

Temples: Temples for most modern faiths can be found on Burnt Hill. Chief among these is the Temple of the Sky, whose silvered dome is polished to a mirrored sheen that can be seen for many leagues. Sky priests are a growing power in Odinessa, and in recent years have even infiltrated the steward's hold.  

Laws and Customs: Guildrule holds sway in the city, with each guild providing their own tunics to maintain peace and dispense justice. Knights swear fealty to their steward, or tend the king's eagle (a giant even among its own kind). The mysterious Knights of the Roc are said to watch over a clutch of eggs that have lain dormant in its eyrie for almost two centuries.   

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 4: The Sunken Citadel of Ebb

What secrets lie hidden within the drowned fastness of Ebb? 

Aspirant wizards of the Widowing Sea are taken by sail to the Lullen, a vast stretch of water where no wind blows. Marooned on its edge, the aspirant must row alone into the doldrums, until they come at last to a place where bubbles break the surface. Quaffing the water-breathing draught given to them by their master, they dive down into the inky depths, where they are inducted into the sunken citadel of Ebb.

Ebb was once the home of a powerful storm giant wizard. By day her tower overlooked a windswept valley, but by night it tumbled through the planes on her command. Powerful wards protected it from the elemental chaos, allowing the wizard to explore the furthest shores of the cosmos. Nobody knows how her tower finally collapsed, or what fate befell the wizard herself, but Ebb had long fallen into ruin by the time of the deluge. Its magic still held though, stilling the wind for miles around its foundations, and holding its walls fast against the crushing pressures of the abyss. Filled with artificial gravity and flooded with fresh, cool air, the sunken citadel was found by adventurers of the Widowing Sea, who turned it into a grand college of magic.

A wizard of the sunken citadel dresses in blue, aquamarine or purple robes, often decorated with wave or tentacle motifs. Their staffs are surmounted by shards of coral or mother-of-pearl, and they typically take oceanic creatures as familiars: crabs, seabirds or snapping turtles. Graduates serve the navies of the Widowing Sea as war wizards, or carry out their studies in solitude from remote hermitages. Others quest in the company of sell-swords and sea reavers, searching for sunken secrets to carry back to their masters in Ebb.

J is for Jackalwere

"No, boy. This form was made for killin', not playin' ball."

Absent from Wizards' recent article on shapeshifters was the notorious Jackalwere, a savage monster that preys on humans by masquerading as one of their own kind. Yes, that's right. The Jackalwere is actually the humorous opposite of a werewolf: an animal (in this case a jackal) that transforms into a savage human. They can also assume a halfway house between both forms: the half-human, half-jackal hybrid that Stacey's illustrated above. Somewhat surprisingly, this monster has infiltrated every edition of D&D to date.

In fairness, Jackalweres aren't proper lycanthropes. Great though it would be, they're not created by the infected bite of ravenous human: instead, they're a crafty race of jackals who can shapeshift at will to hunt down their prey (like that's any less silly). Of course, it works best if their prey is human. Isn't it strange there aren't any monsters that only transform into elves, dwarves, or gnomes? I suppose a Werehobbit doesn't have quite the same ring!

Dungeon 211: Glitterdust

This morning my latest Dungeon offering went live: a strange little adventure called 'Glitterdust', which is designed for a party comprised entirely of pixies. I had a tremendous amount of fun writing this, and it's great to see Wizards of the Coast experimenting with such oddball concepts. Hopefully you'll get the chance to run it too - we played it as a one-shot for playtesting, and it made for an interesting change of pace from our normal campaign.

I'd originally intended the adventure to be dark and mysterious throughout, much like Pan's Labyrinth, but it actually ended up much closer to a Disney movie - featuring talking animals, a bumbling human adventurer, and a wicked hag. This spirit is certainly reflected in the maps they did for the adventure, which have a pleasing cartoon style.

Let me know if you like it!

I is for Ixitxachitl

"Now what did I tell you about eating blowfish?" 

The supposedly-terrifying "Demon Rays" use slaves to tunnel out labyrinthine underwater cities in the coral. They're small, basically the size of a normal ray, with a poisonous barb on their tail, just like a stingray. In fact, they are stingrays. But with fangs and a silly name. You can get vampire ixitxachitl too, which seems like a slightly desperate addition to make them scarier. Best of all, we're told that for every 50 ixitxachitl there will also be a high priest and two guardians, all with Type U treasure ("magical items that can be used without hands"). Imagine that - a stingray wearing a gold chain. Or a cloak.

The Monster Manual helpfully informs us it's pronounced "ish-it-SHACH-itl", "icks-it-ZACH-it-ul", or "icks-it-zuh-chit-ul", which is basically an admission that you should say it however you damn please. Doesn't matter now though, as some bright spark eventually realised that ixitxachitl fulfil the same role as aboleths, and ditched them from the game.

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 3: The Pinnacles of Song

Dare you scale the windswept Pinnacles of Song?

So we needed a monk to test out all of the classes in D&D Next. I've never been big on monks; in fact, I don't think any of my previous campaigns actually supported them. Coming up with a monastic order for Drowned Kingdoms was going to be something new for me.

If I have any advice on campaign building, it's to draw inspiration from real life. History books are an obvious source to mine, but you can glean a lot just by listening to the news, browsing the internet, or flicking through back issues of magazines like National Geographic. Start thinking consciously about adapting real-life stories to your games, and it's amazing what you'll find. Give those stories a fantastic tweak, and you'll often end up with something truly original.

The idea of a monastery carved into a sheer rock face is hardly new - in fact, the internet is crammed with awesome pictures of them. However, I couldn't resist, as nothing says "monk" better than a precarious mountain sanctuary. This wasn't my only inspiration for the Pinnacles of Song though: somewhat surprisingly, most of it came from a short news story about the use of satellite dishes in Iran. It turns out that satellite TV is illegal under the regime, yet over half the residents still own dishes. The police swoop in and tear them down, a few people get fined, and then the residents wire them up again. Best of all, most people aren't using them to listen to foreign news or tune into pirate political broadcasts - they're using them to watch Turkish soap operas, comedy shows, or American serials dubbed into Persian. You know: basic feel-good entertainment. It was this story that gave me the idea for the Song Monks.

THE SONG MONKS 

The wood elves of the Kithweald lived in harmony with the Four Storms - the untamed, magical winds that rumble over the seas of Diluvia. Looking out over their forest was like gazing over the rolling waves, the song of its shuddering leaves matching the endless rise and fall of the tide. It's said the elves learned to whisper on these winds, casting their voices for miles in a primal tongue that only they could hear.  

For centuries the giants had left the Kithweald alone. When they finally came, they took hundreds of captives, loading them onto their longboats and stealing them away to serve as their slaves. Lost and afraid, far from home, the captives listened to the winds but could no longer hear the song of their countrymen. The giants told them they had burned their forest, and put their people to the sword. But they were liars. When the spring winds finally blew, the elves heard the distant voices of their people, and though they couldn't talk back, they could listen - a secret that kept them warm through all the dark days of their slavery. Now, whenever the spring wind blows, they are reminded that their people are still out there. 

In time the cruel giants were overthrown, and kinder masters took over. Freed from the shackles of slavery, the elves went in search of their lost homeland, but were scattered even further by the Four Storms. Today they gather at the Pinnacles of Song to listen to the voices of their lost kinsmen - the songs, laughter, and whispered secrets of a life beyond their grasp. The winds moan weirdly as they sweep over the pinnacles' warped surfaces, amplifying the voices better than any other place. Those bold enough to live a life of hardship here can train as a song monk: contemplative warriors who seek mastery over the Four Storms. The monks learn to channel the winds over their bodies, tapping its power to perform amazing feats of physical mastery. The most powerful can even bend the spring wind to their will, tuning into its song at any time.

Every year, one of these adepts is dispatched in search of their lost homeland, guided by the Spring song. To date, none have found their way through the storms.  

Drowned Kingdoms Gazetteer 1: Pickbill

Lots of odd little ideas have emerged as we've been mapping Drowned Kingdoms: thoughts about characters, customs, creatures - even sports. I'm going to try and capture some of these here on the blog as the weeks go by, starting with this cantankerous little fellow - the pickbill.

When I drew the Fathomdeep map, Stacey asked what birds were nesting on the giant trident. I didn't have an answer, so she came up with this creature. It's not a monster, and it doesn't come with an adventure hook - but I think stuff like this adds valuable flavour to my world. I'm reminded of my favourite RPG world book - Titan, the Fighting Fantasy World - which featured all sorts of wonderful cultural details, from orcish campfire songs through to starcharts of the heavens. These are the details that cement your world in the imagination of your players.

So let's hope this blog series can provide something similar!

PICKBILL 

These large seabirds have toughened pick-shaped bills and powerful clawed feet. They use the points of their bills to crack open barnacles and shellfish, allowing them to gobble up the tasty meat inside. Combs of fibrous 'teeth' span the front of the bill, allowing them to filter plankton from the water. 

Pickbills are clumsy flyers but agile swimmers. They live in large waterside colonies, but are extremely territorial over their own patches. As a species they are found all over southern Diluvia, nesting in sheer cliff-faces or abandoned seaside ruins.  

It's not advisable to eat a pickbill as their meat is extremely tough and salty, and can leave you with a nasty case of food poisoning. Some sailors view them as good-luck charms, as in bad weather their long, honking calls can be used to guide vessels towards (or away from) land. 

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 2: Salvation

Welcome to Salvation, sailor!

SALVATION 

The port of Salvation nestles in the towering ruins of an abandoned storm giant temple. Those who live here swear fealty to the stone giants of Haggard Rock.

Population: 823 (60% human, 25% dwarf, 15% other). Humans residents are typically shopkeepers or tradesmen. Dwarves belong to the jewellers' guild, and rotate in shifts between here and the Fathomdeep mining platform.

Government: Salvation is ruled by the Tulán, corrupted half-giant governor to the thane of Haggard Rock. His masters rarely visit, so the mariners' guild keep him in a state of drunken revelry - allowing them to get on with the business of running the town.  Mikkel Shar is the current guild head; youngest ever to be appointed his station. While the Tulán is rarely seen beyond the walls of Fort Orison, Mikkel Shar is a well-respected face around town.

Inns and Taverns: The three-storied "Merrymeet Inn" slumps atop a fallen pillar near the docks, and is most popular among visitors. Locals prefer the raucous "Scrambler's Alehouse" on the quayside, or the dusky "Hanged Monkey Tavern". All three are cheaply priced, with plenty of rooms to spare.  

Supplies: The guilds haven't gripped Salvation as they have in the larger cities. The mariners' and jewelers' guilds both hold offices in town, but all other business is unrestricted. Independent fishmongers, craftsmen and blacksmiths ply their trade from windows along the boardwalk, while visiting merchants sell direct from the decks of their ships.  

Temples: Though Salvation has no temples, most dwellings have makeshift shrines to one or more of the main pantheonic gods. Townsfolk arrange their own communal worship, gathering at different houses to sing and pray.   

Laws and Customs: A cadre of twenty guardsmen uphold the laws of the town, which are pretty simple: don't steal, beat or cheat. Relaxed trade laws mean even pirates and smugglers are tolerated, so long as they don't break the rules. If they do, the community is quick to rally against them.     

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 1: Fathomdeep

Fathomdeep - click to make bigger!

So it's the dawn of a new year, and a brand new D&D campaign rises on my horizon.  For a while now I've been drawn to the 5th Edition playtest - I admit I wasn't impressed initially, but I'm really liking the direction it's taken in recent packets. I'm going to give it a proper chance. Or at least, lay down preparations for a proper campaign. Which means a new campaign world!

I'm also aware Beholder Pie has been gathering dust recently. Though I've hosted my fair share of aborted serials here on this blog, it's time to gear up for a more regular posting schedule, and a new campaign world gives me something fresh to talk about.

So, welcome to Drowned Kingdoms! I'll be posting maps for this new world every week*, building it up map-by-map into a proper setting. I've always wanted this blog to be packed with original art, but actually getting artists to provide artwork (for nothing!) does mean it's been rather stop-start. Maps, though, I can do myself (to a degree - Stacey colours them!).

The idea for the world is pretty simple. It's the dying days of an empire of giants, decimated long ago by a great deluge. They still rule the archipelagos, but the flood has robbed them of their glory. The storm giants are forlorn drunkards, haunted by lost glories. Hill giants have descended into savagery, while stone giants are a beaten race hiding out in the mountains. Fire giants? Just a legend, supposedly fled to the Elemental planes. Beneath them all are men, elves, dwarves, and halflings - the subjects of the empire. And now, their time has come!

Stacey and I had the idea for Fathomdeep after watching the Hobbit (which we loved, in case you're wondering!). That scene at the start where the camera dives into the depths of Erebor, past clanking chains, to a lone dwarf miner uncovering the Arkenstone - now, just imagine if that was underwater? That same dwarf with his beard floating around him, fish flitting past, a flare hissing in the rockface at his side, working on a rockface of coral - well, that's Fathomdeep!

FATHOMDEEP 

Fathomdeep is a deep sea mining platform perched atop a giant statue in the ruins of a flooded storm giant city. The dwarves mine the sunken city for pearls, gold and gemstones, using waterbreathing potions to survive the crushing depths.
Population: Up to 300 dwarven workers can be found here at any one time. Roughnecks, roustabouts and miners work the rig in rotation, spending roughly a quarter of the month onshore. Servants and managers stay full-time on annual contracts. Supply ferries make the journey to the mainland on the first day of every week.
Government: The platform is owned by the Jeweller's Guild of Salvation, a nearby town. The current "toolpusher" (foreman) is called Torgi:  a grizzled veteran who commands his men's respect and is fiercely loyal to the guild.
Inns and Taverns: Rum is generously meted out every night in the "Crab's Taphouse": an annex of the rig's mess hall. Visitors are welcome to stay in the taphouse's rat-infested bunks, but may prefer the comfort of their own berths. The taphouse is run by Bald Olli, a merry dwarf who's always interested in tales of distant shores.
Supplies: Fathomdeep is a regular stop-over for sea traders, so it keeps a good supply house. Visitors can be sure to restock on fresh water, timber, hardware, and other shipping goods, but can also find a fair supply of adventuring gear. After all, the sunken city is home to worse things than fish.
Temples: The platform maintains a small shrine to the old gods of the sea. It's a dangerous job, so miners usually pay a visit to the shrine before "going below". Visitors can buy simple curatives from Ocram, the platform's crippled ritual worker. Ocram was lamed by a shark, whose teeth he now uses as runestones to predict the weather.      

Check back next week for a map of Salvation!

*Okay, maybe every other week. Let's just see how it goes.

Dungeon 209: Tears of the Crocodile God

A sacrifice to Bansouk's vicious Crocodile God finally meets her maker...

Just a quick post to let you know that my first adventure is soon to be published in Dungeon magazine. Back in March I pitched Tears of the Crocodile God through the DDI submissions channel. I heard back from them shortly after moving to Guildford, and spent much of June writing and play-testing. It's been a personal goal of mine to have an adventure published in Dungeon, so it's fair to say I'm over the moon! If you're a subscriber, I hope you'll enjoy it, and maybe find some use for it in your own games.

Best of all, this isn't the only adventure I've got coming - after submitting the final draft, the folks at Wizards have been in touch with more work, and I now have more projects in the pipeline. Though Beholder Pie will be baking at a lower temperature until I'm done, I'll try and post updates when I can. The good thing about adventure design is that it keeps you thinking about the game, so there's lots I'd like to share. Until then, I hope you'll join me in raising a tankard to the Crocodile God - may he forever wallow in the blood of fallen adventurers!

F is for Firenewt

Firenewts were a race of bipedal, lizard-like marauders that lived in deserts and arid mountains. Their raiding parties would strike out from volcanic lairs in search of tasty human captives, which they'd take back as food for their larders. As a species they were barbaric, tribal and thoroughly evil. Somehow, I don't think Stacey's illustration fully captures this.

I use the past tense because firenewts eventually went the way of the dodo, as far as the game goes. I guess D&D can only support so many  lizardmen (or "lizardfolk" as we're inclined to say now, to avoid discriminating against lizardgirls). Most likely they were usurped by Salamanders, which in reality are newts, and were once thought to have an affinity for fire. So they're the same thing really. In terms of lore, I suppose I prefer the elemental Salamanders (though I think they need the word "man" added to the end of their name).

As she was drawing them, Stacey decided that Firenewts like to dance, which is what this one is teaching his boy. So I suppose that adds something new to their lore!

Small but Vicious Dog

"Ruff!"

I don't know about you, but animals don't seem to last very long in my games. Often it seems that the moment somebody gives them a name, it's just a matter of time before they croak.

Take Bagsy, the loyal mule eaten by goblins after being left alone outside the Keep on the Shadowfell. Or Stumpy, the trihorn behemoth burned alive in a reckless fire started by our warlord (Stumpy actually survived with extreme burns, which made it kind of worse). Or the "small but vicious dog" listed under the Rat Catcher's starting gear in Warhammer: I've probably seen more of those kick the bucket than actual rats! Over the years I've lost count of how many riding horses have been crushed by avalanches, ridden off cliffs, or just caught on the wrong side of a fireball - and don't get me started on familiars.

Of course, I'm to blame most of the time. Killing a pet is probably just a cheap way to crank up the pressure, so I end up treating them like red shirts, or those rookie cops who're just about to get married. Perhaps I'm just haunted by a scene from My First Ever Adventure (I was nine!), when my brother's character asked a local woodsman if he'd seen his horse, and the DM told him the guy was wearing suspicious-looking horse-ear slippers - a stroke of genius that I've possibly been trying to emulate ever since.

Still, sometimes it's just down to the nature of the game: D&D has lots of explosions, and animals are usually pretty frail. Which is great if you just lurve killing animals, but sucks if you want to play a classic "man and his dog" concept. Thankfully 4th Edition is quite good at abstraction, so it's easy enough to come up with a set of rules where they simply can't be hurt. So long as your loyal companion isn't a fighting dog, I think it's fair to give them a handful of flavourful utility powers, yet keep them pretty much off-map during combat (incidentally, this sort of thing is one of the reasons some people hate 4th Edition - but let's not go there thankyouverymuch).

Check out the rules below. It's a matter of taste whether or not you demand a feat to get these powers, or just hand them out willy-nilly. I'd be inclined to go for the latter, so long as the player invests some time bringing the animal to life at the table.