The Arms of Erdrick

Now that I've finished documenting every major location in the original Dragon Quest trilogy for The Saga of the Ortegids, my next priority is going to be statting up a few magic items from the games. I've used them plenty of times in my campaigns, but it's high time I got something written down somewhere. I'm going to make a series of posts detailing some key items from each of the first three games, but I think it warrants a separate post for the Arms of Erdrick - the equipment used by the legendary warrior Erdrick the Aliahanian, a member of the Ortegid Dynasty and subsequently passed down through several generations of his successors. The equipment appears in each of the first three games, typically as the strongest equipment available - in the first game it's mainly just that it has the best stats, but later entries would establish additional perks and abilities of each item, which have been fairly consistently applied in later appearances, and it's these that I'm primarily basing my renditions on.

Optional Rule: I should note that in Dragon Quest I, carrying an amulet belonging to Erdrick is considered acceptable proof that you are descended from his line. Based on this, and the fact that in DQ3 the equipment is only accessible to the main character, you may wish to allow only PCs with the Ortegid Scion background to attune to these items. In a tabletop RPG with multiple players, this would limit their utility and may be unfair to players playing non-Ortegid characters, especially if they would mechanically benefit from the items. If the only Ortegid in the party is a wizard, it's not very fair if the fighter can't equip items designed for more martial characters, for instance. Thus, I've made this an optional rule for if you care about authenticity.

Cynebrand, the Sword of Kings

Artifact

The sword Cynebrand was forged by Erdrick the Aliahanian himself from orichalcum - a rare and nigh-unbreakable metal, so hard that it can only be shaped and formed using advanced techniques known only to a select few. This in and of itself makes it a weapon of considerable power.

When wielded by a character that has not attuned to it, Cynebrand behaves as a +2 longsword; additionally, due to its unique construction, it cannot be broken or bent by any nonmagical means. The latter property is a physical property of orichalcum and not an enchantment; thus, it will behave as such even if subject to anti-magical effects.

However, in the hands of a trusted wielder who understands and masters the blade, Cynebrand posseses additional magical powers. If used by a character that has attuned to it, Cynebrand instead behaves as a +3 longsword. If the wielder is also attuned to the Shield of Heroes and the Mail of Erdrick, as an action, its wielder can hold the sword in front of them to call forth a thunderclap that shakes the earth with the effects of a thunderwave spell at a spell save DC of 10. This can be used three times per long rest.

Haelescyld, the Shield of Heroes

Artifact

Originally carried by a legendary hero of ancient times, this shield was swallowed by the earth after his death in battle. Centuries later, Erdrick retrieved it from the depths of the Nailmark, the vast cavern formed when Zoma, Forbidden God of Death, dug his way into reality in the God-War. Now dubbed Haelescyld, the Shield of Heroes, it protects the user against magic.

When wielded by a character that has not attuned to it, Haelescyld behaves as a +1 shield. When attuned, it instead behaves as a +2 shield, and grants the user Resistance to fire and cold damage. If the wielder is also attuned to the Sword of Kings and the Mail of Erdrick, it also gives the user Advantage on all saving throws against magical effects.

The Mail of Erdrick

Artifact

This suit of armor was forged by Gaius, god of fire and the forge, as a favor for Rubiss, the goddess of life and creation, who in turn gave it to Erdrick as a token of thanks after he freed her from a curse of imprisonment put on her by Zoma, her twin brother and equal and opposite in power. In addition to its legendary resistance, it is wound with potent healing magics.

When worn by a character that has not attuned to it, the Mail of Erdrick behaves as a suit of +1 plate armor. It is forged from adamantine, which causes critical hits against the wearer to be treated as regular hits instead. When attuned, it instead behaves as a suit of +2 plate armor. If the wearer is also attuned to the Sword of Kings and the Shield of Heroes, it also allows the wearer to heal one additional hit die of damage, plus their Constitution modifier, when healing during a healing surge or short rest.

Modules As DM Screens

As ridiculous as this will sound, this idea came to me in a dream. It was really just a minor detail of a dream I had the other night, but it was one that stuck with me, because I woke up thinking that it would actually be a pretty brilliant idea. Why not publish modules in the form of DM screens?

There's plenty of discussions out there in the RPG community about the ideal form for published adventures and modules. How much text is too much? What's the best layout and organization? How do you efficiently describe a room with all the details you want to impart to the players without getting bogged down in flavor text? I don't really have a good answer to this myself. As long as it's something I can use effectively at the table, I'm not picky. But I realized that you could pretty easily pack all the important information for a small module into a DM screen.

There are definitely some advantages I can see. A DM should be able to reference any information on their screen at a glance, so by printing the module on the inside of their screen, you minimize flipping back and forth through a book to find what you need. Furthermore, since a DM screen is already used to hide information from players, you could just as easily put all the room keys and important plot events you don't want your players to know about there, and they wouldn't be able to see it. It would also make for an easily produced, inexpensive adventure, since it'd just be a single piece of printed cardboard rather than a full book. If you did it as inserts for a modular screen, it'd be even less production costs.

Due to the amount of information you'd need to include in a limited amount of space, this is probably something best suited for one-page dungeons and other small adventures, of the sort that could be completed in one or two sessions. The DM's side would include maps, room keys, stats for monsters and traps, and maybe a random encounter and/or rumor table. Me being me, I'd also put a space for notes that the DM could write in to customize the adventure, if they wanted to add their own features or change things to fit their setting or preferred style of play.

You could even use this to provide the players with easily accessible reference material too - on their side of the screen, you could have a map of the general area with sites of interest, expository material, lists of important NPCs and what the PCs would know about them, and such. That way, they could look at the screen to consult what options are available to them and what information they should know, saving time that would otherwise be spent asking the DM for reminders. You could also put inspirational art on there to help set the scene for the players.

The biggest obstacle I see here is that you'd need to make sure the player-facing information would be readable from across the table, which would likely require a larger font than on the DM's side, limiting the space that could be used for this material. But on the whole, I could see this model being used to produce an entire line of short adventures suited to pick up and play with minimal preparation, on the cheap.

Has anyone actually done something like this? If not, am I on to something? I've got a short dungeon percolating in my head, so maybe I'll try seeing how well this format works for it. But if it does, I think this has potential to be revolutionary.

Friday Encounter: Elvish Negotiations

Art by Zara Alfonso

This encounter is, admittedly, a bit specific to the Lunar Lands. It was in part created as a way to introduce players to how I run elves, and to introduce some exposition on what they're like in the setting. But it could also work in a setting where elves are of a similar quality (I make no claims that my take isn't heavily influenced by things like The Elder Scrolls, Dwarf Fortress, and Magic: the Gathering's Llanowar Elves). And it presents an interesting opportunity to use elves as antagonists - something I feel is all too underused.

Plenty of ink has been spilled on the trope of inherently evil races - if it's worth what it brings to the table, if it's too limiting, if it's necessary. But I don't see anyone talking about inherently good races. Let me ask you: when was the last time you've had random encounters where you had to fight elves, dwarves, or halflings? Humans show up as bandits plenty of times, but it seems like many DMs struggle to think of the traditional PC races in roles beyond those of helpful allies. To me, that's a missed opportunity. I think there's room for evil elves just as much as there's room for good orcs. If anything, elves should be antagonistic to the party more often - not only are they traditionally aloof and disdainful of other races, there's plenty of literary precedent in tales of the fair folk, with whims and customs utterly alien to those of humans, to say nothing of the Mirkwood elves in The Hobbit, who are just as dangerous as the goblins of the Misty Mountains. So let's forget about Legolas for a moment, and explore an encounter with elves that might not go so comfortably for the party.

Elvish Negotiations

This encounter is best used in a wilderness setting, preferably in a forest. If you wish to use it in other environments, you may wish to make adjustments to fit the terrain.

The party should come across a clearing where a band of elves is harrassing some human woodcutters. There are three men tied to the tree with animal sinews, surrounded by six elves holding spears to their throats. Another elf, Misleikkuri, stands overseeing them, his arms folded and an imperious glare fixed on the woodsmen.

If questioned, the elves will explain that the woodcutters were caught tresspassing near an elven glade and felled a few trees. The woodcutters insist that they did not know the lands belonged to the elves, but the elves refuse them any mercy. In fact, they are prepared to subject them to a slow and torturous death by sawing them in half with a dull blade, one by one, citing that it is what they did to the trees. After they are dead, they will tan their hides, devour their flesh, and sharpen their bones into knives. The elves show no emotion about this, viewing it as perfectly natural and relating it in as casual and nonchalant a matter as an elf's way of relating anything can be so called.

A DC 10 History or Religion check will reveal that elves commonly view the trees as their gods and ancestors, so killing one is viewed as a grave transgression. A character who grew up around elves (usually if they themselves are an elf, but not always; eg. an elf raised among humans would not necessarily know this) will know this automatically.

If the PCs attempt to bargain for the lives of the woodsmen, Misleikkuri will accept a deal. He will accept their ransom at a rate of 500 GP's value per man - he sees such foolish and short-lived things as humans as little more than commodities, and will barter them as such. However, he will not accept the payment in coinage, as the elves have little use for the shiny metals of humans. Mundane items will be accepted at their value in GP, uncommon magic items at a rate of 100 GP each, rare magic items at 200 GP each, very rare magic items at 300 GP each, legendary magic items at 500 GP each, and artifacts at 1000 GP each.

Additionally, the PCs can attempt to haggle with Misleikkuri to lower the ransom on a given man. A successful DC 15 Persuasion check will cause him to lower that man's ransom by 100 GP; elves have Advantage on this check, as Misleikkuri is more trustful of them than humans. However, if this check is failed, Misleikkuri will grow frustrated with the negotiations, and his attitude will grow more hostile. If any items he is offered are made of wood, or another plant product, he will also be insulted, as their existence is proof that a tree was felled to make them.

If Misleikkuri is insulted three times (either through a failed check, an offer of wood, or if the DM feels such a response is warranted to the PC's conduct - keep in mind, this should be warranted from the perspective of a being who thinks of himself as higher and above human morality, and who sees humans the way we see cattle), he will call off negotiations. Any woodsmen the PCs managed to free before this will be allowed to go, but any that remain will be condemned to death. For folkloric resonance and to give the PCs information to strategize with, Misleikkuri should make it explicitly clear, if the PCs enter negotiations, that he will only let himself be insulted three times. Each time he is insulted, he will remind the party how many attempts they have left.

If the PCs attempt to free the woodcutters by force, or if they continue to try and get Misleikkuri to release them even after he has ended negotiations, he will order the elves to attack. They have the stats of a scout; additionally, Misleikkuri himself has the stats of an archer (see Volo's Guide to Monsters). In addition to the six elves in the open, there are three additional scouts hidden in the trees; they are behind three-quarters cover, and any ranged attacks made at them from the clearing are made at Disadvantage.

Background: Fated Hero

 

If you've been following my blog, I don't think it should be any surprise to you that I love backgrounds. They're one of the best ideas 5e ever had, offering customization options for characters that add flavor, and most of the features are narrative-focused, opening up new avenues for characters to explore and interact with the world rather than just giving them mathematical bonuses. That being said, I do think that there's room for background features to introduce mechanics of their own. There's some fun things that can be done there. As a bonus, they provide an avenue to mechanically represent new character concepts without having to write a completely new class - let's face it, D&D has more classes than it has archetypes for those classes to fit as it is. Here's one such example.

This started out as a post for The Saga of the Ortegids as a background to represent a PC being a member of the Ortegid Dynasty - that is, the legendary family that includes (but is not limited to) the main characters of the first three Dragon Quest games. The idea of a legendary hero is a common feature in contemporary Japanese fantasy that tends to be a direct reference to the player characters of the Dragon Quest games in the same way that the "demon king" archetype is the result of porting the video game conceit of a final boss into narrative media. Usually, the two are linked, with the hero often being prophecized to defeat the demon king. In some stories, they're the only one physically capable of doing so, and in some, the hero and the demon king are both metaphysical roles passed down cyclically every generation, with their struggle serving to keep the balance of good and evil. These aren't mutually exclusive.

Notably, however, the heroes of the Erdrick Trilogy are not prophecized chosen ones - that trope comes mainly from later games. In the first three games, they're all people who volunteered or were volunteered to deal with a pressing threat, but from what little exposition we get, it appears that this is because they feel it's the right thing to do and/or because they're following the example of their ancestors, not because of a mandate from higher powers. With this in mind, in addition to the fact this project is deliberately eschewing any artifacts of the medium of video games, you might be wondering why I'd try to represent it.

Well, heroes being elevated in some way among common people is something we see in fantasy and mythology in pretty much every culture and era, so I think it can still work. Drawing more than a little inspiration from The Saga of the Volsungs, the lore for my version of the setting is this: when Baramos, the Sorcerer-King of the Southlands, was told by an oracle that he was doomed to be slain by the line of the Aliahanian warrior Ortega, he had a curse placed upon Ortega's kin, such that all would be blessed with incredible strength, wit, and bravery, but simultaneously doomed to misfortune and tragedy, attracting powerful enemies and more often than not dying by the sword. This is why they're so often capable of great heroic deeds and faced with a need to perform them, not because the world works like it's a video game.

However, while plotting out this background, I realized that it'd also work very well for a variety of names in fantasy and folklore - the Volsungs, but also the heroes of ancient Greece, subject as they are to the whims of the gods, Samson, and even more modern examples like Elric of Melnibone. To that end, I've submitted it as a setting-agnostic background. Feel free to tweak it for your own purposes.

Fated Hero

For whatever reason - be it a curse, a prophecy, or merely attracting the eye of the gods, you are capable of great deeds, but your fate is a plaything of higher beings. You have the potential to become a figure of renown through heroism, but the same fate that guides you toward greatness could just as easily bring about your end.

Skill Proficiencies: History, Religion

Languages: Celestial

Starting Equipment: A token of your divine favor, a set of common clothes, an explorer's pack or a dungeoneer's pack, and a pouch containing 15 GP.

Feature: Gigantic Melancholies and Gigantic Mirth. Once per long rest, you can beseech the gods to grant you their favor in performing a great task. If the DM agrees that the roll at hand is a suitably heroic deed, you make the roll with Advantage. However, your fate is bound in both directions. Each time you use this feature, the DM will make a note of it, and can inflict Disadvantage on any one roll they choose in the future. Additionally, if you roll a natural one on your reroll, even if the original roll was higher, you must take it, as the gods are punishing you for your hubris in calling upon them so wantonly.

Variant: Ortegid Scion. This variant can only be used in a Saga of the Ortegids campaign, or one where the setting also features a family of heroes cursed to tragic fates. You are a member of some branch of the Ortegid Dynasty - possibly a prince of one of the three Ortegid kingdoms, a distant cousin, or the product of a one-night stand in foreign lands. In addition to the Gigantic Melancholies and Gigantic Mirth feature, you also have the Inheritor feature from Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft (if you bring up your heritage, you will get an idea of the local reception of your ancestors and how you can be expected to be treated in turn). You must be a human or a half-race of human parentage, and of at least partial Aliahanian ancestry, to use this background (though the Ortegids have traveled throughout Erdland and Torland and their descendants can be found in surprising places).

Friday Encounter: Star Metal

This encounter can be used anywhere outdoors, but probably has the most potential in a wilderness environment relatively close to civilization.

One way or another, the PCs should catch sight of a falling star, shortly before they hear the sound of a loud crash in the distance. If they investigate this site, they will find a large, smoking rock lying in the middle of a crater amidst flattened grass and toppled trees. A meteor has fallen here!

A DC 10 Nature check will determine that meteors often contain iron. A DC 10 Religion check will reveal that meteoric iron is considered a gift from the heavens in many cultures - and a DC 10 Arcana check will reveal that this iron, known as star metal or thunderbolt iron, is prized for having magical properties beyond that of earthly iron.

If the iron is mined from the meteor, there is about 60 pounds' worth of metal that can be obtained. Objects such as weapons and armor can be smithed from this metal, at a rate of one pound iron to one pound of the final product (for example, it could be used to make a single set of splint armor, 10 shields, 20 longswords, 60 daggers, etc.). Any weapons and armor made from the iron are treated as +1 items of that type; additionally, creatures wearing armor made of star metal have Advantage on all spell save DCs, as the iron is resistant to magical effects.

However, this equipment cannot be made without the use of a forge and a trained blacksmith. The party may need to transport the meteor to a forge if they wish to make use of its bounty. The meteor weighs 150 pounds in total and is cumbersome to carry; a bipedal creature carrying it may not use their hands for any other action while hauling the meteor. It can be carried on a cart or sled, but this may slow travel if it weighs the vehicle down. Getting the meteor to a blacksmith willing to work it may well be a quest in and of itself.

A character with proficiency in smith's tools can forge an item from the iron at a rate of one day of work per item, but they must have access to the proper tools as well as a forge and anvil in order to do so.

Keep in mind that things might not be easy even after taking the meteor to someone who knows how to work it. The blacksmith will likely demand compensation for such a task, and may even want to keep some of the iron for themselves, especially if they aren't familiar with the party and no reason to trust them. Furthermore, if word spreads about the star metal (such as if the PCs return to town to look for someone who can work it or help transport it, or if they show up in a settlement with the meteor in tow), they might attract the attention of thieves, or the feudal lord might lay claim to the iron if the meteor fell in his domain.

For that matter, the fair folk are repelled by iron, and they would have good reason to keep a source of it hidden so that it cannot be used against them. If the meteor is not collected in 1d4 days, a fey lord in the area will place a spell over it to make it invisible to mortal eyes, while fairies will try to waylay anyone who goes near the site - or accost them, if they must.

Saga of the Ortegids: Eras of Adventure

My default setting, as it were, for The Saga of the Ortegids would ground the action many generations after the events of Dragon Quest II - enough time for the setting to be a blank slate for the DM to run as they pleased, without needing to worry about canon characters or events impacting their plans, and for it to make sense that the Worldtree would have grown to the point where travel between Erdland and Torland would be possible in order to make full use of the material and its potential. However, there's a number of other eras in the setting's history that could make for good campaigns. Below, I've listed six - three focusing on Erdland, and three on Torland - presented in chronological order.

Art by Ted Nasmith

1. The Journeys of Ortega

Of all heroes of the Ortegid dynasty, their progenitor, Ortega, is the one we know the least about. What little overarching plot Dragon Quest III has is driven by him - he's a legendary warrior of Aliahan and the father of the protagonist, who in turn would become known as the legendary hero Erdrick. Ortega feared that the sorcerer-king Baramos would pose a threat to his family, and set out to kill him shortly after the birth of his child, but was never heard from again.

Your motivation in DQ3 mostly boils down to avenging your father and/or living up to his legacy, and he's mentioned at a few points throughout the game, even if his in-person screen time is minimal. We know a few places he went and a few characters he encountered, but much of his adventures are shrouded in mystery. The recent HD release added new cutscenes detailing more of Ortega's adventures, which I personally feel was a mistake - he had a lot more mystique when you only heard of him from NPCs' accounts and had to put the pieces together yourself. But the broad strokes we get could provide a good basis for a campaign.

In this campaign, the PCs would take the roles of companions of Ortega on his journey to the Southlands. Of all of these, this is the era that would probably have the most appeal to players already familiar with the Dragon Quest series, since it's grounded in events directly discussed in the games and would involve locations visited there. However, there's enough empty space in what we know to allow for DMs to add new quests and locations. The main drawback is that the presence of Ortega shackles things to canon events somewhat, which could lead to railroading and remove the sense of danger if players know he has to reach his canonical fate. Furthermore, you'd need to figure out how Ortega himself would be handled. While I personally don't have an issue with DMPCs, it's all too easy for them to turn into invincible plot devices that take all the glory from the actual PCs if run poorly. One way to get around this would be for Ortega to be run by a player, or for a PC to take his role in the story instead.

2. The Reign of Erdrick

Early on in DQ3, after returning his stolen crown, the King of Romaly offers to hand the throne over to you. You can accept the offer and play out a short scene of being the king and surveying your domain, but ultimately, you have to leave the position behind if you want to continue with the game. It's definitely a fun and memorable segment, though - and since a big part of Saga of the Ortegids is reframing the mechanics of the Dragon Quest games in a more realistic light, I think this could be made into a part of the setting's history.

Perhaps Erdrick did accept the crown of Romaly, but instead of abdicating right away, he sat on the throne for some years afterward before ultimately deciding to return to a life of adventure. If that's the case, we now have a few years' gap in our timeline that a campaign could take place in. Since there aren't any major changes to the world's status quo before and after this quest, we can assume that Erdrick's rule was a fairly peaceful one - but who knows what could have been happening behind the scenes?

This option would probably work best for a campaign taking place entirely or predominately in Romaly, with PCs being Romalian citizens during the reign of King Erdrick the Aliahanian. There are a number of directions it could be taken - it could simply be a backdrop for whatever adventures the PCs concern themselves with, but there are opportunities for storytelling if the DM does want to involve the royal court, too. After all, this would see a weak but familiar (and no doubt easily controlled) King cede the throne to a foreign barbarian, with no ties to the existing power players and no way of predicting his actions - and there would surely be factions with different opinions on the matter that PCs could get tied up in, if noble intrigue is on the menu.

Art by John Howe

3. After Baramos

After Erdrick's party departs for the Pit of Giaga and enters Torland, we don't hear from Erdland again. But it's a pretty expansive setting with many interesting areas and cultures, as I've blogged about extensively, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. What was going on on the surface while Erdrick was saving Alefgard? This campaign would address that question.

This campaign would deal with the repercussions of a few major shakeups in the setting. Baramos has just been slain, and that leaves Gondo - a pretty major kingdom, and a strategically important one - without a ruler. This could lead to a power vacuum with multiple factions seeking to take control. Consider how it's implied that Baramos himself overthrew the previous rulership. There could be loyal subjects of the sorcerer-king hoping to continue his legacy going up against the downtrodden natives looking to finally liberate themselves from tyrannical rule, mixed in with other kingdoms hoping to swoop in and take some of the land for themselves, or install a ruler they can trust to serve their interests. At the center of all this is a pit known for spawning monsters, from which an ascendant dark god has just issued a threat to take over. Some factions would likely want to make sure this threat is controlled as soon as possible, and see themselves as the best ones to do it, while to others, it would be an obstacle to their ambitions that they would need dealt with before they enact their plans.

There are other potential plot hooks here, too. For one, Gondo wouldn't be the only nation in crisis - consider also that Zipangu has had its own draconic ruler killed, and that she was able to keep the populace controlled through fear and fanatic devotion. What happens when that centralizing force is taken away? Additionally, upon hearing Zoma's challenge, the King of Aliahan falls into a deep sense of malaise and hopelessness. This could itself provide issues to the kingdom if the ruler is no longer interested in ruling, and some factions both abroad and from within might well see their chance to strike when he is at his weakest.

4. The Rise of Lorasia

When we leave the protagonist of Dragon Quest I, he has set off to establish a new kingdom of his own in a distant land - and when we pick up in the sequel, the continent-spanning empire he founded has been split into three kingdoms ruled by his heirs. That gives us a lot of ground to cover, and it's one that would be a perfect fit for certain campaign models.

In this campaign, PCs would be Alefgarder settlers who followed Aleph Wyrmbeorn to Lorasia, then an unsettled and disjointed wilderness, in the early days of his kingdom, and would play a role in shaping its fate. This would be an exploration-focused campaign - PCs might be tasked with surveying the land, establishing new trade routes, and dealing with locals, who may or may not be friendly. In other words, it'd work very well for a sandbox campaign, perhaps something like West Marches.

There would also be room for domain-level play - an empire of the size of Aleph's would surely need regional power centers in order to project power effectively, and PCs could take the roles of dukes, counts, and barons carving out their own feudal demesne in the new kingdom. This in turn provides a good prospect for PCs to advance their place in society - they might start as peasants dreaming of a better life or landless second sons of nobles back home, but through service to the new King could be rewarded with domains of their own.

Art by Chris Achilleos

5. The First Kinslayer War

However, as great of an empire as Aleph's was, we know that it didn't last long after his death. The three Ortegid kingdoms of DQ2 are all descended from those that the empire was split into after the land was divided among Aleph's three sons. We have little in the way of details as to what happened between then and the present day of 2, but any student of history can tell you it probably wasn't a time of peace. The division of a great empire has often led to civil war, with disparate factions competing to reunify the bygone kingdom and take back territory from their neighbors. Alliances would constantly be made and broken, and the map could drastically change even from month to month.

A campaign set in the heat of such a period could have many opportunities. PCs might be in the service of one of the three kingdoms, taking part in battles against its rivals or conducting more clandestine operations in service of their goals. Alternatively, the chaos of the war could serve as a backdrop for their adventures - and there's plenty of ways a party could take advantage of the instability of the situation and the diverted attention of the authorities to their own benefit. Battles between the warring states could form obstacles the party would have to navigate around, so as to get from one point to the other without being caught up in the crossfire.

One way to really make this campaign fun would be to run it as a direct sequel to a campaign set in the previous era, with the same group. First, players would be involved in the establishment of the Ortegid Empire, carving out their own sphere of influence within it. Then, you jump forward a few decades to take a look at those domains ravaged by civil war! The PCs from the previous campaigns could become NPCs, while the strongholds they built could be revisited. This would be a great way to build more attachment to the setting if the players had a role in shaping it, as well as making for a living, dynamic game world where the choices players made in one setting impact the next.

6. The Second Kinslayer War

So here's a bit of trivia for you.

The ending for Dragon Quest II is a pretty conventional one. The evil is defeated, and everyone goes home and celebrates, roll credits. This was a time before storytelling was really a priority in video games. But in an interview, Yuji Horii described the ending we were going to get, had his original plan been implemented.

In it, there's a key difference to the final game - in order to defeat Malroth, the Prince of Samartoria (or Cannock - I'm aware that he's never actually been called that in English, and I'm stretching the rules I set for myself a bit in using the Japanese name for the country rather than the city, but I want to be consistent) must sacrifice his life. This has some interesting parallels with how Malroth was summoned through a willing human sacrifice, and it fits in pretty well if you are to interpret this as the Spell of Embodiment being dispelled through the same process. Anyway, in this version, the Prince's sister is told of his fate when the Prince of Lorasia travels to Cannock to celebrate their victory. Mad with grief, she blames the Prince of Lorasia for her brother's fate, and stabs him to death when he retires to his room.

This was scrapped because they didn't have enough disk space for such a cutscene, and they decided in retrospect it would make for a really unsatisfying ending. And I suppose, from the perspective of a video game, it would. Plenty of gamers would be frustrated to sink many hours into a game only for their character to be assassinated just before the credits. However, it's also something straight out of a Greek myth or a Norse saga. And, me being me, that alone is enough to make me prefer it over the ending we got - especially when this project draws heavily on myths and oral tradition for inspiration.

A potential campaign could be set immediately after the events of DQ2 - but using this ending instead. Such an act would have plenty of interesting consequences. Lorasia would surely want to take action if their crown prince was murdered at the neighboring kingdom's capital, and if we presume that Lorasia and Samartoria fought a war in the past, this could ignite old tensions between them. At the same time, both kingdoms just days ago were fighting a war against Rhone, and they might be in a precarious position, their forces exhausted and morale strained. Furthermore, you have Moonbrooke in the middle - surely they were hoping to rebuild their destroyed capital and get things back to normal following the defeat of Rhone, only for things to get even worse. And Rhone itself would be dealing with the immediate fallout of the death of Hargon, leaving them with a succession crisis of their own.

The PCs would be caught in the middle of all of this, as the celebrations that one war is over quickly turn to dread over the new war just beginning. They could ally themselves with any number of factions springing up in the aftermath, or try to get by in the middle of a rapidly combusting powder keg. In addition to the many potential leads to pursue, this is a campaign that would offer fanservice for players familiar with the series, taking place in the direct fallout of one of the games and with opportunities for recognizable characters, locations, and items to make an appearance, but there's still room for the PCs to be important. Any campaign set in an existing universe risks having the PCs be overshadowed by canon characters, but if two of the three heroes of DQ2 are dead and the Princess of Moonbrooke is busy trying to hold the remnants of her people together, they aren't going to get in the way.

Zenithia

By this point, our investigation into the setting of The Saga of the Ortegids has covered every region present in the original NES Dragon Quest trilogy (and then some), across both the two worlds of Erdland and Torland, discussing the opportunities each one of them could offer a tabletop RPG campaign. However, we aren't done yet. There's still one more location I want to shine a spotlight on - the floating island of Zenithia.

Zenithia wasn't present in the NES release of Dragon Quest III. In terms of release order, it first appeared in Dragon Quest IV; that game, and its two sequels, all feature the island in some way or another, leading to those games being dubbed the "Zenithian Trilogy" by fans. Unlike the Erdrick Trilogy of I through III, it's somewhat debatable whether or not those games take place in the same universe, and they definitely don't seem to take place in the same universe as the Erdrick Trilogy.

However, starting with the SNES release of DQ3, Zenithia was added as a post-game bonus dungeon, and it's stayed that way in all subsequent releases, even the ones that did away with most other changes added in the SNES version. Being optional post-game content, one could argue as to whether or not this material is supposed to be canon, and this project is specifically based on the NES releases and their Western marketing materials, but as a DM, I'm personally inclined to throw Zenithia into the mix anyway, purely because it's interesting, and would provide some neat implications on worldbuilding. Plus, it creates some nice symmetry if Erdland is connected to both a world below and a world above.

In all its appearances, Zenithia is a pretty small island. The one major feature is Castle Zenith, which is inhabited by a race of beings called the Zenithians. In DQ3 there's no real indication that the Zenithians are anything other than humans, but in the Zenithian Trilogy they have wings and increased magical aptitude, and I'd probably backport this for The Saga of the Ortegids. There, they are an aloof people, prefering (with some exceptions) to observe the lower realm from a distance but without any desire to interfere.

Art by Nottsuo

The nominal ruler of the Zenithians is King Zenith, but the most powerful resident of the island is surely the Divingon, a dragon god that dwells at the highest point of the castle. If the Divingon is bested in combat, he will grant a wish to whoever defeats him.

This is...a pretty obvious reference to Dragon Ball, sure. But I think there's a lot it could offer a campaign. The existence of the Divingon would offer a reliable high-risk, high-reward solution to any problem the PCs might face. If they need a powerful enemy defeated, or a curse lifted, or an ally brought back from the dead, they have a way to wish for it - they just need to be able to beat a god in order to do so, and getting to said god isn't exactly an easy task either. I'm always of the opinion that PCs should only have access to such powerful world-altering magic if they complete a suitably epic quest for it, and ascending to the heavens and convincing a divine dragon to fulfill their request certainly qualifies.

I also like the Divingon as a character - you can't actually kill him (he's a god, after all), but if you manage to impress him enough by dropping his HP to 0 within a time limit, he decides you're worthy of his favor. If you take too long, he gets bored and calls the fight off. He's a being operating on so high a level that the concerns of mortals are only worth his time if they amuse him, which is very much in keeping with popular conceptions of both dragons and gods (at least the kinds of gods I like.)

Art by Gustavo Cabral

And I do think the Divingon's divine status is literal. Lest we forget, Zenithia is accessed through a portal in Empress Castle, which is said to be the closest point to the heavens, and is home to the Dragon Queen, who calls herself a "messenger of the gods." For my take on the setting, I'd posit that the Divingon is none other than Gaius, the dragon-god of fire and the forge. The Dragon Queen must keep a portal to his realm in order to commune with him and guide the rightful interests of all dragonkind, as he is their patron and progenitor. A fun side effect of this: if we only see Gaius's personal domain, do the rest of the Nine Gods each have their own personal corner of the heavens? A DM could have fun with that concept.

There's two more bits I'd like to discuss when it comes to Zenithia. Many of the enemies encountered there are palette swapped versions of bosses from the main game - one of which is Baramos, the only time his sprite is used for a common random encounter. Given that I've chosen to interpret him as part of a magically created race of superbeings, this would suggest that Zenithia has access to an army of Drokkarim. I had previously described the Drokkarim as being a creation of the ancient Aliahanians, but I might instead have them as being bred by the Zenithians. Or perhaps the Old Aliahanians were in fact descended from Zenithians, or even that they were Zenithians. Given the comparisons to Tolkien's Numenoreans, having them be superhuman makes sense.

Lastly, I'd be remiss not to mention the adventure seeds implied by my cosmology for the setting. In the present day of the setting, I feel it would be useful to have a world tree allowing travel between Erdland and Torland to allow for both worlds to be accessible in a single campaign. But if the Worldtree has grown enough that those in Erdland can follow its roots down to Torland, surely they'd also be able to follow the branches up to Zenithia. And if mortals are suddenly able to travel to the lands of the gods, that would shake things up considerably...

Torland Maps

Following on the same format from my Erdland maps, now that we've completed our look at Torland, we can now present a complete map of my interpretation of the inner world for The Saga of the Ortegids.

Click here to enlarge

Click here to enlarge

Friday Encounter: Archimedes's Well

Here's a simple two-room puzzle designed to be slotted into a larger dungeon. This one is based on Archimedes's principle that an object displaces water equal to its mass, and attempts to simplify these physics for the sake of gameplay. Keep in mind that the intended solution to this puzzle may not be obvious unless your players are familiar with the theorem, although there are alternative solutions as well.

There should be one room in the dungeon with a large well in the center of the floor. The well drops a distance of about 200 feet before coming to standing water. Looking into the well reveals that a golden crown is floating atop the water, its surface reflecting light off any torches or lanterns, but it's far too deep to be reached from the surface.

A short distance away from the well is a pile of stones of various sizes. The third feature of the room is a door leading to the north (or whatever direction you want, it isn't important). On the wall opposite the door is a chipped, faded mural of a naked man holding his fists high in triumph, with the word "EUREKA" written over his head.

The intended solution to this puzzle is for the PCs to drop stones into the well, displacing enough water to lift the crown up to where it can be reached. They need to raise the water level a total of 200 feet in order to retrieve the crown.

However, they must do this without making too much noise, or they risk alerting an ogre who resides in the room to the north. When the PCs first enter the room, the ogre is asleep, and the sound of his snoring can be heard if one listens at the door. He's sleeping too soundly to be woken by normal conversation or footsteps. However, if the party makes any loud noises, or isn't careful in how they drop the stones, he will wake up and charge into the room.

If the PCs drop stones into the well, the water level rises by an amount of feet equal to the weight of the stone. They can use any combination of the stones to raise the crown, but every time they drop one, they must make a Stealth check; the ogre is alerted if the check fails.

The pile contains:

• Five 20-pound stones (DC 25; requires two hands to carry)
• Eight 15-pound stones (DC 20; requires two hands to carry)
• Ten 10-pound stones (DC 15)
• Fifteen 5-pound stones (DC 10)
• Twenty 1-pound stones (DC 5)

If the PCs wish to appraise the crown, a DC 15 Nature check will reveal that it appears to be worth 1000 GP. However, if the check passes by a value of 25 or more, it will be determined that the gold of the crown is actually mixed with silver, cutting the value down to 500 GP. Alternatively, you could use the crown for another puzzle elsewhere in the dungeon, such as putting it on the head of a statue to open a door.

Many players might attempt to solve this puzzle through alternative means, such as levitating into the well or using spider climb to scale the walls. Use your judgment to determine how this should be addressed - you should reward PCs for thinking outside the box, not punish them for not guessing what you wanted them to do.

Optionally, if you're worried about PCs getting into the well, you can have a water weird at the bottom, lurking in the water. It lays dormant as long as the PCs stay out of the well, but will come to life and attack if they enter it.

Rhone

The setting for the climactic confrontation of Dragon Quest II is Rhone, a highland region in the center of Torland's Southern Continent under the control of Hargon, high priest of a cult that worships Malroth, the god of chaos and destruction. There's a few things that make this area unique and interesting, and they deserve a closer look - in no small part because they raise questions that might elucidate further worldbuilding in The Saga of the Ortegids.

Rhone appears to be coterminous and/or synonymous with the Plateau of Rendarak, suggesting this is the predominant geographical feature of the realm. That's certainly supported by the geography - it's ringed by high mountains, so high that in the game it can only be reached through a complex system of caves winding up the mountains to the south. I'd likely add other means to access Rhone for a more open-ended campaign, but the Road to Rhone, as it's been dubbed, is infamously a long, circuitous maze-like dungeon, with corridors that loop back on each other and pits that force players to backtrack from a lower floor. In a video game, this is tiresome and frustrating, but it would be easy to translate to a megadungeon if one was so inclined. Thanks to the pits, it's even Jacquayed! Check out the maps at Dragon's Den for an in-depth explanation.

The Plateau itself, notably, is the only snowy area in the game (and, indeed, in the entire Erdrick Trilogy), likely due to its position high in the mountains. We can then surmise that Rendarak is a high tableland, and the elevation leaves it notably colder than the lowlands at its feet. Perhaps it would look something like the Tibetan Plateau in terms of geography and climate, or at least parts of it would. Since there are no other areas with such wintery terrain, it's reasonable to assume that the Plateau of Rendarak is the highest point of Torland.

And with that in mind, we must confront the implications this has on the metaphysics of our setting. On a conventional globe, it makes sense that a high-altitude tableland would be so cold, as the atmosphere is thinner the higher off the ground you get, and thus doesn't distribute heat as well. But remember, we're working off the conceit that, since Alefgard is accessed through a pit in Dragon Quest III and the Trilogy consistently shows it to have no day-night cycle, Torland is located on the hollow interior of the planet, with a central inner sun. If this sun works the way ours does, you'd expect that it would be warmer at high elevations, since these would be closer to the innermost part of the planet, and thus the sun.

In order for Rhone to make sense, we must assume that the inner sun gives off light, but not heat - which makes sense, because it seems to be connected in some way to the Sphere of Light. Furthermore, the physics of Torland don't appear to work by conventional means, as in DQ3 it's shown to be capable of supporting life and vegetation even when it has no sun at all. Torlandic physics, then, may simply hold that plants are capable of growing without photosynthesis and higher altitudes are colder just because.

Look, it's a pulpy sword and sorcery setting. Scientific accuracy takes a backseat to what makes for fantastic adventure.

With all that out of the way, I'd like to address the sociological and political situation in Rhone, because that is also quite interesting. In later Dragon Quest games, and much of the broader canon of Japanese fantasy they inspired, "monsters" are something of a race, or a category of races; despite their heterogenous appearances and abilities, they all share a vaguely-defined nature, and are uniformly aligned with the game's villain. They seem to be contrasted in this way against humans, who are almost always on the side of good - criminals tend to be background characters or roguish antiheroes. This is quite different from D&D, where the idea of a "monster" does not exist outside of game mechanics, and there is not much in common between, say, a skeleton and a gryphon.

But this distinction does not appear to be present in the Erdrick Trilogy - we don't really see the idea of monsters as a monolith come up in the games themselves until IV. And Hargon's forces seem to consist mainly of humans. Many of DQ2's enemies, and almost all of those who are explicitly tied to Hargon's cult, are various forms of cultists and magicians. Furthermore, Rhone is far more civilized than you'd expect from a land of monsters. Hargon has a castle, and there's a temple there staffed by a human priest that functions much like the temples in towns. Consider also that the plot of DQ2 is kicked off when Rhone invades Moonbrooke and destroys its capital. If Rhone is able to wage open war against a powerful kingdom, it must have an army.

To control a cult as large and powerful as his is, Hargon must be a charismatic leader indeed, but I feel like that wouldn't explain all the resources Rhone has at its disposal. What seems more likely to me is that Rhone is, or was, itself a kingdom, but was usurped and taken control of by the Children of Hargon. Hargon is, then, a political leader, not just a spiritual one.

If one wishes to run a more gritty and realistic take on the setting, Rhone would likely have legitimate grievances that the Children of Hargon looked like a solution to. An entire country wouldn't start openly serving a world-devouring god that easily (there are some hilarious jokes I could be making right now, but I don't discuss real-world politics on this blog). And I think there's something we could look at with the fact that Moonbrooke is Rhone's first target.

It could just be a matter of proximity, since Moonbrooke is directly to the north of Rhone. But there may have been some existing tension between the two kingdoms. Given Rhone's more inhospitable climate and inaccessibility, it's likely it wouldn't have been as rich, fertile, or influential as its northern neighbor. The Rhonesmen may have been Moonbrooker vassals at some point in history, and this could have led to resentment among the populace, who felt they were forced to answer to foreign crowns (especially considering that the ruling house of Moonbrooke is of Alefgardic and Aliahanian descent, not anything native to the region). Hargon offered the people the possibility of self-determination and independence - a chance to be powerful enough to throw off the yoke of Ortegid oppression. And that made his ultimate goal of summoning Malroth an easier pill to swallow. Since my Moonbrooke is based on Sweden, I think it works quite nicely to have Rhone culturally analogous to Finland in this scenario, fitting the terrain and the fact that they're neighbors of the Ortegid kingdoms but lack a common heritage.

I'm not doing this to pull a Wicked and portray Hargon as a misunderstood well-intentioned extremist. He still wants to summon a god of destruction to destroy existence as we know it. But he needed a base of power in order to do so, and - as cult leaders are wont to do - he could tell the people what they wanted to hear so that they would give that power to him.

A final note on Hargon: he has blue skin and fangs, and this is never really explained. The game never gives any indication as to what he is. For that reason, I would run him as a tiefling. The proper tieflings with non-standardized appearances and randomized demonic traits, thank you very much. I'm very much a proponent that demons in general should be Boschian creatures of chaos that come in all shapes and sizes, with no two being alike. That should go for tieflings too.

This concept opens up some fun prospects for campaigns. If Hargon was holding the people of Rhone together, we are presented with the question of what would happen after his death at the end of DQ2. There would be a power vacuum, and all manner of factions would have reasons to get involved. Who is next in line to lead the Children of Hargon - and would they really believe in the cult's dogma, or merely go through the motions as a way to hold power over the people already in its thrall? If the latter, is this motivated by self-interest, or a genuine desire to uplift the people of Rhone through the only means anyone knows how? Would a resurgent Moonbrooke set its sights again on Rhone, especially after it nearly brought the kingdom to its end? What do the Rhonesmen think of that? There's a lot of fascinating questions here, just begging to throw the PCs into head-first.

Beran

The southwestern corner of Dragon Quest II's overworld features a large island off the coast of Tuhn, on which is the city of Beran. There's no major quests or dungeons here, but it is an evocative area that deserves a closer look for The Saga of the Ortegids.

Beran is located at the center of a lake, and much of the town appears to be built on top of a series of bridges and platforms. The first thing that comes to my mind here is Laketown from The Hobbit, which I've always found to be an intriguing setting. Helpfully, I have the Middle-Earth Roleplaying sourcebook on Laketown, and though I've used it for a similar floating city in the Lunar Lands, it could just as easily be reskinned as Beran.

Beran is a rather large town, with multiple shops and facilities, so it would seem to be a major economic center for the region. Perhaps its location on the lake may play a role in this, as it would be easy for ships to transport goods from the shore - but, at the same time, it also provides a natural defense that would allow Beran to become a citadel in times of war.

We don't see a king in Beran - there is a save point, which in Dragon Quest is usually the function of a king, but here it's located at the house of a hermit living in an island to the northwest of town. It would've been easy to make this a king if the developers so wanted, but for whatever reason they didn't. For this reason, I think it's safe to say that Beran is not a capital city. However, unlike Tuhn, I think it's a reasonable assumption that the city would in fact be part of a greater kingdom. The geography of the island seems conducive to large-scale settlement, with a long accessible coast in the south, wide open plains, and access to freshwater sources. I'd argue that it makes sense for there to be other settlements on the island, all answering to the same monarch - we just don't see them, or the capital, because they doesn't offer anything of value to the characters' journey.

Art by John Hodgson

Much like Hanguo, this offers me the chance to flex my creative muscles a bit. I've chosen to invent the Kingdom of Escar - yes, as in Esgaroth - occupying this southwestern island, much like Dirkandor in the east. It's likely a prominent regional power, as it's quite distant from any other kingdom (and thus would lack competition) and has enough land and resources to be self-sufficient. Escar might send ships to trade with ports in the Tuhn region and the Southern Archipelago, but any other kingdoms that could match it in power and wealth are quite far away.

Beran is bounded by a large desert and mountains, which would make communication with the northern half of the kingdom difficult. Either the capital is near the coast, and of a similarly mercantile nature, or it's in the northern part of the island. The northern part certainly has enough plains to support agriculture and settlement, but I feel it would be hard for a kingdom to control territory if its capital was in an inaccessible region. Thus, I'd argue that the capital of Escar is likely quite close to Beran, which would give it access to seafaring trade routes.

In fact, that might explain why Beran is built on a lake - perhaps it was originally intended as a citadel that people from the capital could retreat to if attacked. It may have developed into a separate city over time, or we may be seeing it in such a function. Maybe the reason we don't see the capital is because it's been evacuated. Note that the capital of Moonbrooke is razed at the start of DQ2, and a martime power like Escar would likely catch wind of this through traders and sailors. It's possible that the people of the capital fled here when they heard the news in case they were targeted next.

If the Escarian capital is located in the north, then Beran would likely exert a considerable amount of power due to its wealth and its distance from the capital. It may be a de facto independent city, even if it formally answers to a king who has no way of controlling it. This could lead to a rivalry between the cities, which could allow for faction play.

A third option is that the northern half of the island is controlled by a separate kingdom than the one that controls Beran. As I said beforehand, both halves could support a state, and the mountains and desert form a believable natural boundary. As the northern half is more mountainous and has little access to the sea, it's likely not as wealthy or powerful as the southern half. It's noteworthy that the random encounter list for the island includes both orcs and orc chieftains - the northern part, whether a separate kingdom or a wild frontier, may be populated by beastmen.

The main function Beran serves in the game is the portal there, which serves as the only point of entrance to Rhone, the endgame area. It's a bit interesting why Beran would have this. Perhaps it maintained relations with Rhone at one point - it would make communication easier, given how mountainous and inhospitable the path to Rhone is. Or maybe Beran is built over the ruins of a portal shrine that once linked Escar and Rhone.

Tuhn

South of Moonbrooke and the Lianport region, the Southern Continent of Dragon Quest II's overworld is highly mountainous. The central region forms the Plateau of Rendarak, a high snow-capped tableland that appears to be even higher in elevation than the surrounding mountains that make it inaccessible until the end of the game. But even if we look around the Plateau, we can see several mountains surrounding Wellgarth to the south, and a complex system of mountain ranges to the northwest, where we find the city of Tuhn.

Tuhn is the only settlement in this area detailed in the game, and it does not have any king or other local authority. I don't suspect that it's part of a larger kingdom, either - it's likely an independent city-state. The area around it is a maze of cliffs and valleys, which would make it quite difficult to project power from any capital. Rather, I would imagine this is Torland's "points of light" region. The difficult terrain makes it difficult to establish any major states, so the area is a patchwork of free cities, petty duchies, and tribes of barbarians, bandits, and beastmen (funnily enough, enemies in this area do indeed include orcs and hostile warriors). Every valley may well have a distinct culture quite unlike its neighbors. There's shades of Vance in this, and it could easily provide fodder for an exploration-driven campaign if the party travels from one valley to another, encountering new and strange discoveries in each. It would also provide an easy way into domain play, since the lack of major regional powers would mean the PCs would face little resistance if they wished to carve out their own.

The other major geographical feature of the Tuhn region is an extensive system of waterways - no doubt fed by the mountains. Most of these can be navigated by boat, which may be the most efficient way to travel from one valley to another if the mountains block overland travel. See Death on the Reik from Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay if you want to see how a campaign could be structured around river travel. Because Tuhn itself is located on a river, it's likely a prominent trade center, and may be wealthier than other towns in the area, since it has access to other ports along the water. Those villages more inland, however, may be forced to live a self-sufficient existence.

Notably, in the game, the stretch of the river by Tuhn is dried up because a thief has stolen the key to the town floodgate. This is mostly an issue because it blocks your access to the Tower of the Moon, a tower where a wizard guards a fragment of the moon. It's interesting how this got here, given that Torland is a hollow earth with no day and night, and presumably no moon - perhaps it's for that reason why it's such a rare and prized artifact.

However, you would think that the people would be more concerned about the river drying up. Not only would it limit Tuhn's access to other towns along the river system, it would also deprive people of fresh water, seafood (fish was a reliable source of food for many medieval cities), and irrigation. If I was running a similar scenario, I would likely emphasize the effects of being cut off from the river on the town, with the people risking drought and economic ruin. This would give such a quest more urgency.

Also in Tuhn is the workshop of Don Mohame, a legendary weaver; if provided with the right tools, he can sew a robe made of water, protecting the wearer against fire, ice, and magic. This is an optional sidequest, but I love the folkloric feel of a craftsman so skilled he can create items that are physically impossible. Also, he's a good example of how you can throw a unique NPC with special skills and services unavailable anywhere else somewhere in the campaign world to serve as a resource.

Art by Scott Pelico

Culturally, I would imagine the Tuhn region as being something like Switzerland, befitting its nature as a decentralized region of small scattered settlements separated by mountains. With that in mind, my previous writing on the Freikantons might provide some inspiration.