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.

Friday Encounter: Tithe Collection

This encounter is designed to challenge your players' expectations of morality and social expectations in a setting that may have different worldviews from their own. In that way, it's well-suited to a non-Flintstonist campaign, as a way to introduce players to the concept that people in a medieval fantasy world might see things differently than they see things today - especially with players who are new to the idea of leaving their preconceived notions at the door when approaching the campaign world. Keep in mind, though, that it's best if the players know this is a non-Flintstonist world going in, so that they aren't punished for making sensible choices.

The encounter should happen in a settled area in a feudal state. The PCs should pass by a small homestead, with ragged crops and a slumping roof. Outside, the farmer, Petro Barisic, is holding onto a young heifer by a rope, and is engaged in a heated debate with an armored woman, Mirta Pavlovic, who wears the arms of the local lord on her tabard, and faces Petro with a stern and unflinching glare as she keeps her hand on the pommel of the sword on her belt.

Mirta is a woman-at-arms in the employ of the local lord who oversees this steading. She has demanded that Petro give up the heifer as a tithe to the lord's coffers. Petro rejects this, citing that he has little to his name, and his cow is getting old; he was hoping to raise the heifer to take her place so that he can provide butter and cheese for his family. However, Mirta insists that the lord's word is absolute. If Petro will not turn over the heifer by the next week, his family will be evicted from the land.

Most players will naturally see Petro as the victim in this situation, and will be inclined to take his side.  His story is a truthful one. However, in a setting that believes in the divine right of the nobility, to contest the lord's demands - especially if the PCs are not of noble birth, or are foreigners - would be considered insubordination, and threaten the stability of the fief. The party might try to seek an audience with the lord in order to plead Petro's case, but it will likely not be easy to convince a noble that he should care for the plight of a single peasant, when he has armies to supply and treaties to negotiate with his neighbors, who may or may not be friendly. Petro's concerns are well beneath him.

Some parties might even try to incite open rebellion against the lord, but they should not expect to do so without facing stiff resistance, as the lord has more resources than they do. If they try to go up against the lord alone, they are up against whatever armies he can muster - to say nothing of any allies he might call upon from other fiefs and baronies. And even if his seat on the throne is threatened, the ensuing power vacuum might not be a step up - it might destabilize the region, or worse, lead to an even worse tyrant taking over.

The purpose of this encounter is not to punish the PCs for doing the right thing, and beat into the players' heads that everything they do is hopeless. It should still be theoretically possible to come out with an outcome that Petro will be satisfied by - perhaps they can sway the lord with careful rhetoric, or find a suitable substitute for the heifer, or even find a way to allow Petro to keep it under his master's nose. But by having such dilemmas come up in play and exploring the realistic consequences of how the PCs address them, you can give the players a firsthand look into how this isn't a world that will work the way their own life does, and prove that they shouldn't expect it to.

Wellgarth

Wellgarth is one of the more unique towns in Dragon Quest II. Located in the southern peninsula of the Southern Continent, just across the sea from the Southern Archipelago, the majority of the town is located underground. Why this is is never really explained. It's far away from any other settlement, and none of the townspeople comment on the unusual circumstances of the town. A lot of sources I've found online suggest that the people moved underground to defend against attacks, but nothing in the game actually says this. It certainly would be a viable option to make Wellgarth something like the Cappadocian underground cities, which exist as citadels for the people to retreat into in times of siege. It's an evocative setting with fascinating implications on worldbuilding, and it provides a useful justification to give megadungeons some versimilitude - especially when it's directly based on something from real life.

However, there aren't any structures on the surface of Wellgarth besides a small fortress. You would think that if the town is a temporary institution that exists to house refugees, there would be something above ground. But there aren't even ruins, which the destroyed city of Moonbrooke has. My personal answer to the dilemma? Just make it a city of dwarves.

Sure, the people in Wellgarth use the same graphics as those of any other town. But then, those sprites are generic townsfolk shared between all the towns anyway. And there's nothing that would indicate that they aren't dwarves. The Erdrick Trilogy features appearances by elves and hobbits, but no dwarves, so making Wellgarth a dwarven city is an easy way to complete the triad. For that matter, Wellgarth is where some of the best equipment in the game can be purchased, which fits with the trope of dwarves being expert craftsmen. In a setting like The Saga of the Ortegids, which tries to reframe the setting of the Dragon Quest games in a way that isn't reliant on game mechanics, Wellgarth could still be a place to buy powerful magic items - not because it's a late-game location, but because it's home to dwarven smiths with the knowledge to create such things. Getting there could be a quest in itself. And winning the favor of the dwarves might be necessary to win such a reward.

Besides, as any Dwarf Fortress player would know, the lower reaches of a dwarven city - the abandoned mineshafts, ruins of previous settlements, and sealed-off tunnels of those who dug too deep - are great fodder for megadungeons anyway. You even have a safe town for rest, recovery, and restocking at the top.

Wellgarth may not be a wholly dwarven city. It's located near the mountainous region of Rhone, which is certainly a point in support of it being predominately inhabited by dwarves, but it's in a relatively open area surrounded by plains and near the coast. There may be other dwarven citadels in the mountains, but Wellgarth might be a trading post in an area easily accessible by humans to facilitate communication between the dwarves of the Southern Continent and the outside world. We don't see a king or other authority figure in Wellgarth, so it may be a vassal of a larger dwarven kingdom we never see the capital of.

If Wellgarth is a trade center, it may well have a population of humans as well. And that ties into another feature of the city we see - there seems to be a criminal underworld (no pun intended). One of the shopkeepers sells a key that can open the cells of the town jail, suggesting that there is contraband being passed around on the black market, even in seemingly reputable businesses. Furthermore, in order to buy the key, you have to specifically ask for it, represented by picking a blank item on the shop menu. Another citizen alludes to this, so it seems the existence of this black market is a secret known to some select people that can be trusted with the knowledge. There may be a thriving thieves' guild in Wellgarth, and getting involved with the right people might open a new world of resources and opportunities.

Torlandic Topology

So this is probably the single nerdiest thing I've ever done.

The setting for The Saga of the Ortegids, extrapolating from the worldbuilding details we get in the first three Dragon Quest games, is a hollow planet, with Erdland (the world map of Dragon Quest III) on the outside, and Torland (that of Dragon Quest II, which includes that of I) on the inside. Thinking about how both 3 and 2 feature an area where you can obtain a leaf of the Worldtree, I began to ponder how exactly the maps would line up if modeled on a three-dimensional sphere.

So I got a free trial of SketchUp and did exactly that. Look under the cut for more.

The Southern Archipelago

At the tip of the southern continent in the overworld of

Dragon Quest II is a series of islands, several of which have interesting features. As someone whose gateway drug to fantasy was Greek mythology, and who lists The Odyssey as one of my major influences, it should come as no surprise that I like the concept of strange and enchanted islands with all matter of unusual encounters to be found. For The Saga of the Ortegids, I'd like to treat this region as something like that.

You could easily run a seafaring campaign going from island to island, encountering strange and unique phenomena on each. The islands detailed in the game are listed below.

I'd likely add a few more islands for a campaign of this sort, to give more material. Ideally, each island should have a distinct hook or gimmick, such as a tribe of locals with some peculiar culture or a unique and powerful monster. Here is a post with some ideas. Helpful hint: if you think of islands in this sort of campaign the way Star Trek writers think of planets, you're pretty much there.

Art by DylanvdLinde

• Zahan: The easternmost of the islands, home to a village where all able-bodied men live as fishermen. They are often away at sea, leaving the village populated by their wives, children, and elders. There is also a wizard who lives here. His mansion is warded by traps, but he is in the possession of a loom that can be used to weave a robe from water, giving the wearer protection against fire.
• The island directly west of Zahan has a shrine with a portal that links to the castle in Midenhall. This is one of a few teleportation shrines in the game, serving as a fast travel system.
• The Shrine of Fire is located on an island to the northwest of Zahan. There are portals here that lead to shrines near Lianport, Beran, and Alefgard. These portal shrines are quite similar in function to the ancient Aliahanian ruins from Dragon Quest III, but it's unlikely that they were created by the Aliahanian Empire, as all those portals are restricted to Erdland. If the Aliahanians settled in Torland, you would think they would build at least one portal to there, given that the inner world is otherwise very difficult to access. It's possible, however, that these portals have been lost to time. Alternatively, there could have been a similar world-spanning empire in Torland that built portals to link their colonies, or they could have built by the Ortegid Empire under Aleph Wyrmbeorn, considering that one of these portals is in his capital.
• On the island just east of the mainland, surrounded by mountains and desert (or perhaps, like Empress Castle, this should be interpreted to be a high mountain), there is a grove where a leaf of the Worldtree can be obtained. This can cure people of curses and ailments. I tried to line up the maps of Erdland and Torland, but if we assume that the Pit of Giaga is directly above Tantegel (as that's where it spits you out in DQ3), then this island would be beneath either Suland or Baharata, not the Worldforest, where a similar secret exists in 3. However, it's possible this leaf could come from an offshoot of the Worldtree's roots that extends further east.

Art by Einar Martinsen

• Not shown on the map, but included for completion, is a mountainous island (or, again, another mountain) midway between the southern continent and Dirkandor. At low tide, the island is surrounded by shoals that make it inaccessible, but when the tide rises, ships can sail into a cave on the south shore. Note that in the game, you need to use a fragment of the moon to alter the tides - as Torland is the inside of a hollow world presumably with no moon, this may be the only way to affect the tides. This cave is the site of a hideout of the Children of Hargon, a cult devoted to Malroth, the god of chaos and destruction - they likely chose the location as it's difficult to access, thus making it hard for the authorities to track them here.