Friday Encounter: The Shrine of Blood

Here's an encounter I used in a recent session. It was originally designed as a dungeon room, but it could easily work as a feature on the road or in the wilderness as well.

I generally hew to the wisdom that magic items that just give flat bonuses to rolls are the most boring kind of magic items there are, and don't feel particularly magical. Case in point, it was only a few years ago that I realized that +1 weapons and armor were actually supposed to be magical, and not just a way to represent superior craftsmanship (maybe video games have spoiled me). If I'm going to use a magic item, I think it should always have special properties, abilities, and limitations that make it more than just a flat bonus. If you can abstract a magic item into the calculations of your attack roll, then you forget that you have the item in the first place, and magic should never be forgettable.

However, I can't deny there is a use for flat bonuses to attacks some times - it just makes for a really underwhelming treasure or quest reward. Here's a way you can make +1 weapons more interesting by giving them unique conditions to attain them, and limitations on their use.

The Shrine of Blood

The PCs should come upon a shrine where the statue of a god of war and battle (Kerne, Estark, Ares, Crom, or whoever fits the role in your setting) is stood with a shallow wide-brimmed bowl at its feet. Engraved in silver along the bowl's rim are the words "My champions shall be anointed in the blood of their enemies." A DC 10 Religion check will identify the god and their nature as a god of war; clerics, paladins, and characters with the Acolyte background or similar will know this automatically. Additionally, a follower of the god who prays in front of the shrine will receive a vision of the statue coming to life and dipping one of its weapons into the bowl.

If anyone fills the bowl with blood from a creature they have slain within the day and then dips a weapon into it, the statue's eyes glow, followed by the weapon glowing for a few seconds. That weapon then becomes a +1 weapon of the appropriate type until the next long rest, at which point it reverts to its original state. The blood is consumed through this ritual, but the bowl can be refilled an unlimited amount of times. The ritual will not work if the blood is not fresh, or if the user did not land the killing blow on the creature the blood came from.

Timekeeping in the Lunar Lands

Just a quick worldbuilding post today on the calendar system I use for my main campaign setting. The idea is to create something flavorful and fantastic, but still recognizable enough to the players. This allows them to utilize what they themselves know about time, scheduling, and how it works without needing to be pointed out that a week is actually ten days and for them to need to remember that. Much of this is just for reference and doesn't necessarily come up in-game - but I know it's there, and that's what matters.

Years

Years in the Lunar Lands are not numbered from a specific date; rather, they are charted relative to the reigning Vardessian Emperor at the time. Years in which a new Emperor takes the throne are considered both the nth Year of their reign and the First Year of their successor's reign, and the titles are used interchangably.

Thus, the "current" year in my campaign is the Twenty-Fourth Year of Harald IV's Reign (abbreviated 24HLD4). The year in which he took the throne can be regarded as the First Year of Harald IV's Reign (1HLD4) or the Forty-Ninth Year of Leopold III's Reign (49LPD3). Years prior to the founding of the Vardessian Empire are counted backward - thus, the First Year of Gustav I's Reign (1GST1) was proceeded by the First Pre-Imperial Year (PE1), which was proceeded by the Second Pre-Imperial Year (PE2), and so on.

Months

The Lunar Lands uses a lunar calendar - months are measured from the first night of a new moon to the first night of the subsequent new moon, using the largest of the three moons for reference. There are twelve months in a year, and Midwinter (the winter solstice) is regarded as the new year. If this does not fall on a new moon, the remaining days between Midwinter and the next new moon form an intercalary month at the beginning of the new year. Generally, months are thirty days, but may be longer or shorter depending on the lunar cycle. These months, and their corresponding real-world months, are:

Frostmoon: January

Snowmoon: February

Windmoon: March

Seedmoon: April (the time of planting)

Flowermoon: May

Fallowmoon: June

Haymoon: July (the time where hay is made)

Harvestmoon: August

Barleymoon: September

Winemoon: October

Bloodmoon: November (the time the livestock is slaughtered)

Oakmoon: December

Weeks
A week is seven days, and there are usually four weeks per month. Each day of the week is sacred to a different god, and their temples tend to hold rites on those days. These days, and their corresponding real-world days, are:

Sunday: Sunday. Sacred to Solenna.

Moonsday: Monday. Sacred to Mondi, god of the moon and husband to Solenna.

Huntsday: Tuesday. Sacred to Kerne.

Fieldsday: Wednesday. Sacred to Eostre.

Starday: Thursday. Sacred to Torvald.

Kingsday: Friday. Sacred to Voltan.

Queensday: Saturday. Sacred to Marseah.

Days
Days are measured from midnight to midnight. There are 24 hours per day, with 12 AM being midnight and 12 PM being noon.

Holiday 
Different kingdoms and cultures celebrate different civil and folk holidays, ranging from local festivals to grand official fetes. However, almost every culture observes the Wheel of the Year, a series of holidays plotted around the solstices and equinoxes (quarter days) and the midpoints between them (cross-quarter days). Because these dates are important for agriculture, they are celebrated in most regions, though the customs of celebration are variable and multifaceted, and they may be celebrated in different ways. These dates are:

Imbolc (First of Snowmoon): A cross-quarter day marking the start of spring. Festivals celebrate the end of winter and the rebirth of life, and oaths are traditionally made to be completed in the coming summer. Many also visit oracles in this time to learn of what the coming year will bring.

Eostrefest (Spring Equinox): A quarter day corresponding to the midpoint of spring. This day is associated with Eostre, the goddess of fertility, and the greatest celebrations of her cult are held then to ensure good crop yields in the fall.

Beltane (First of Flowermoon): A cross-quarter day marking the start of summer. Cattle are sent out to pasture on this day, often garlanded in flowers, and bonfires are often lit in celebration. This is one of the two dates at which the borders between this world and the realms beyond are at their weakest, making it easier for beings to cross between worlds. For this reason, it is often celebrated as Hexennacht - Witches' Night - as it is a popular date for rituals and summonings to be performed. In western Vardessy, it is celebrated as Saint Kriemhild's Day, largely in response to this.

Midsummer (Summer Solstice): A quarter day celebrating the longest day of the year. It is the most sacred day in the cult of Solenna, goddess of the sun. Devotees spend much of this day outside observing the sun's path.

Lammas (First of Harvestmoon): A cross-quarter day marking the official start of the harvest season. Typically celebrated with great feasts, often held outside on hilltops, in which the first fruits of the harvests are offered as a sacrifice to the gods. In many towns, elaborate festival days have grown around this feast, with public markets, contests, and performances held.

Mabon (Fall Equinox): A quarter day marking the midpoint of autumn, and the end of the harvest season. Also a time of feasting and thanking the gods for the harvest, though usually a more solemn affair than Lammas, as the days begin to get shorter thereafter and all must start to prepare for winter.

Samhain (First of Bloodmoon): A cross-quarter day marking the start of winter. Most notably, it is one of the two days at which the borders between this world and the realms beyond are at their weakest, allowing beings from other planes to most easily be contacted or summoned. This includes the shades of the Land of the Dead, and it is known that Morthanos, god of the dead, and his agents roam the roads on this day in search of souls that have escaped his domain. For many revelers, this is commemorated by walking the roads in costume. In Valossa, it is also the holy day of the Lady of Death, a local funerary goddess, in which people make offerings to their ancestors.

Midwinter (Winter Solstice): A quarter day celebrating the longest night of the year. In the dead of winter, it is often spent inside with much feasting and merriment to keep the morale during the cold, dead season, and to inspire hope for the spring to come. This date marks the end of the current year and the start of the next.

Friday Encounter: The Wild Hunt

This encounter can be dropped in the wilderness, but it perhaps has more utility if the PCs are actively engaged in hunting - whether that's because they're foraging for food, or perhaps because they're invited by a noble they're in good standing with to partake in a hunt. The lore here is pretty specific to the Lunar Lands, but you can probably tweak it to fit another setting by replacing Kerne with a similar god of the hunt, or the stag with a similarly holy beast.

While out hunting, the PCs are suddenly greeted by the sight of a large white stag with a majestic rack of antlers, emerging from the bush. The stag is alone, and it does not appear to notice the PCs' presence. If they so choose, it would be an easy target to move in for the kill - and a most impressive trophy indeed.

However, if it seems too good of an opportunity to be true, that's because it is. At this point, everyone in the party should make a DC 12 Religion check. Any PC who makes a successful check will know that white stags are the sacred beast of Kerne, the god of war and the hunt, and are reserved for he alone to pursue. Any mortal who dares harm one will suffer Kerne's wrath. Clerics or paladins of Kerne or characters with the Acolyte background who belonged to a Kernate order will know all this information automatically. This might seem like an obvious trap to the players, so if there are any NPCs with the party, you could have one of them attempt to attack the stag if you want to trigger the next stage of encounter.

If the stag is killed, the sky darkens with a great clap of thunder, showing that Kerne is displeased. The next day, Kerne will send a party of the Wild Hunt to track down the PCs, consisting of 2d4 scouts on riding horses, 1d6 mastiffs, and 1d4 perytons. As the scouts are Kerne's servants, they have the Celestial type (and thus will be noticed by Divine Sense and similar effects), and appear unusually tall and robust, with radiant skin, glowing eyes, and antlers growing from their heads, but their stats are otherwise identical. The divine hunters will pursue the PCs like a hunter pursues game - they will attempt to stake them out from chokepoints formed by the terrain, use cover, and attack from a distance to wound the PCs before mounting their steeds to ride them down while they nurse their injuries. This could easily turn into a tense situation with the PCs having to throw off the trail of tireless hunters - if you've seen any of the Predator movies, this should give you an idea of what to expect.

If, however, the PCs leave the stag unharmed, the next day, they will be approached by a hunter with a thick hood covering his face. He praises them on their good fortune to cross paths with the Wild Hunt, and even more so for their respect in leaving the kill to them. He will then leave the PCs with a horn etched with scenes of Kerne leading the Wild Hunt on their jaunts into the wilds, and explains that it may be used to call upon them three times. Once per day, the horn may be blown to summon the Wild Hunt (roll for the hunting party's composition as above), who will assist the party to the best of their ability. After the task they were summoned for is completed, the hunting party vanishes. After the horn has been used three times, the huntsman will take it back from the party, insisting that it can only be trusted in the hands of mortals for so long.

Alternatively, the Wild Hunt might invite the PCs on a hunt, if there are honored hunters and/or faithful devotees of Kerne among them. To be invited to such a task would be a great honor to any of Kerne's followers, but the Wild Hunt follows its own agenda. They are wont to carry the PCs into the middle of nowhere, well off their path, and leave them there as they get lost in the thrill of the hunt. And whatever prey they are pursuing might not be as simple as a white stag...

The Northmen

Among the most fearsome barbarians of the known world are the Northmen. Just about everywhere close to the coast has heard legends of their ferocity - if not experienced it face to face. As expert mariners, their ships have traveled far and wide across every sea, and they are merciless fighters in battle. Their name has passed into legends that speak of an invincible race of giants that descend from the coast and lay waste to everything in their path, burning villages, massacring townspeople, and carrying off riches. Although these tales are exaggerations of the truth - the Northmen are very much normal humans, if tall of stature - it speaks to the imprint these warriors have made on the world.

Traditionally, the lands of the Northmen are held to encompass anything north of the Kvessian city of Mordregaard and west of Ukiah. The true boundaries are fuzzier if one wishes to split hairs - the Kvessian ruling class is of Northmen descent, after all, and their progeny can be found further south yet - but it is these lands where the Northmen practice the way of life that has sustained their ancestors for generations.

Art by Jack Keay

The North has never been ruled under a single crown. It is the domain of countless kings, jarls, and tribes that hold stead over a few villages - some rulers are more powerful than others, but none have united the realm, and to do so would be a task not even the gods could perform, according to Northman tradition. Despite this, they share a common culture, and their languages are mutually intelligible. What unites the Northman clans are their belief in honor, martial valor, and their culture of raiding.

While they pay homage to Kerne and Kord, and while Old Faith practices are common, the Northmen hold Olmo, the god of the sea, as their chief deity, fearing him as a wrathful bringer of storms who must be appeased and placated. Many clans attempt to do so by human sacrifice, and many an unfortunate captive of the Northmen has met their end beneath the icy waters, where it is believed their soul will take the place of a Northman's in Olmo's quota so that the Northmen will not be harried at sea.

One of the most influential - and the most infamous - aspects of Northern life is the tradition of raiding. The lands of the North are poor in resources, with rocky soil and frigid winters; as such, the growing season is short and temperamental. In order to supplement their wealth, the Northmen turned to raiding along the coast during the summer months (taking advantage of warmer temperatures and longer days to navigate more comfortably), attacking seaside settlements and hoarding their treasure. The Northmen do not see such actions as immoral, as long as they do not bring harm upon one's own family.

Art by David Lozeau

As such, the Northmen began to value strength and bravery in battle to succeed in their bloody business. They became renowned as great warriors, some of them even channeling mystic power to shrug off pain in the heat of battle. It also became a point of pride for the Northmen to commit great deeds of bravery in combat, and to boast of them to advance their own status. In some Northman clans, strength alone determines authority, but even among those with traditions of nobility, it is expected that kings reward their most accomplished warriors with wealth and power. Many of these exploits pass into legend, and the Northmen are proud to count a storied hero among their ancestry, recounting familial sagas through a rich oral tradition.

In fact, the Northman tradition of raiding has led them to travel quite far from home. Most commonly, their targets are other Northman clans, or cities on the coasts of the Sea of Bartel and western Vardessy down to Sonderlund. But many Northmen, driven by greed, wanderlust, exile, or any combination of the three, have captained ships far afield. Their legacy is storied along the City-States and even as far as Quel'Ahma, and Northman treasure hoards have turned up in unexpected places.

The Northmen have a reputation in foreign ports - not entirely undeserved - as figures of terror and destruction. However, it should be noted that not all Northmen travel with hostile intent. Their expertise in seamanship and navigation has also made them great traders, and their longboats are a frequent sight at some of the richest harbors in the land. When their ships display shields on their sides, that is an indication that the Northmen have come peacefully to trade. But if there are no shields, that signals they are being held by the warriors on board - and that they have come to shed blood. That is a sight that strikes fear into many a heart.

Background: Northman

Suggested Names: Old Norse or Anglo-Saxon names.

Skill Proficiencies: History, Intimidation

Tool Proficiencies: Navigator's Tools, Vehicles (Water).

Languages: Northern

Starting Equipment: A drinking horn, a tunic and fur-lined boots, a seax (stats of a dagger), 50 feet of rope, and a pouch with 25 GP.

Feature: Ancestral Saga. You have been taught of the heroic deeds of your forefathers throughout the North and beyond. If the DM mentions a location, you can declare (with the DM's permission) that your ancestors have visited that place before; the DM will tell you any relevant information you would have gleaned from the sagas. This feature can be used for three locations in the North and one location beyond the North per campaign.

Worship in the Green Downs

The halflings of the Green Downs do not construct temples. In the Hinnisch philosophy, to build a specialized edifice for prayer, with all the statuary and ornamentation that entails, is too pretentious. The Hinnisch folk prefer things to be tasteful and practical, and there is no need to pray in gaudy building when one can do so at home.

Nor do the halflings have any priestly or monastic orders. Preferring to live for themselves and to be unbothered, they have little use for rigid hierarchies that arbitrarily allot power to some people over others. Instead, halfling religious traditions emphasize the value of community, and of communal life.

The practices of the Green Downs, though ostensibly part of the same traditions as the formal Pantheonist cults, have little oversight, and they have diverged in numerous ways. A key point is that the halflings believe that anyone can lead worship - if the prayers are written down, the sacrifices to the different divinities are understood, and the people know how to interpret signs that the gods are pleased or not, then there is no need to turn to an external authority for such matters. Holy symbols in the Green Downs are not the purview of clerics, and just about every family keeps a talisman or two to ward away evil spirits, just in case.

In lieu of temples, the halflings observe communal worship in their neighbor's homes. Every other Starday, and on holidays, a given community - usually about 20 to 30 families in the same general vicinity - gathers at the burrow of one of their number (the position rotates such that a different family hosts the service each time, usually hosting once every year), where the head of the household leads them in prayer.

This entails much more than simple worship, however. Much of the Green Downs consists of isolated homesteads, so these meetings present a rare opportunity for the community to come together and for people to catch up on local gossip, considering their only other opportunity to meet up with their neighbors might be on market days. Also, given the halfling propensity for gastronomy, these meetings always include a communal meal, which tends to take up much of the day. A portion of the food is set aside for the gods as a sacrifice, but for many this ritual is merely a formality and the real appeal is getting to share in the company of one's fellows - and to partake in the food, of course. It is no small undertaking to feed an entire clan of halflings, and every host family typically spends several days in advance preparing for the feast, which often includes delicacies seldom enjoyed on ordinary days. To cook a worthy feast and to impress one's guests is an important mark of good burrowkeeping.

Though they are intended to bring the community together, it is not unheard of for halflings to rope any travelers who might be passing through or staying nearby into their services - sometimes among the congregation, and sometimes to help prepare, if they are hosting. They have been known to insist on this, whether the travelers like it or not. Even still, there are plenty of reasons for travelers to look forward to a Starday in the Green Downs. For many, a Hinnisch Starday service is as good a place to hear rumors and local news as any tavern - not to mention to get a good meal and a pint or two of ale, and for free at that. Those unfamiliar with Hinnisch practice, however, should take note that, while ordained priests and monks of most Pantheonist orders study magic and can offer their services to worshipers, most halflings do not - if one is in need of healing, they may need to ask around for an herbalist.

The King in the Mountain

Gustav I, the Great, the Unifier, the first Emperor of a unified Vardessy, is still alive today.

Though it has been nearly 800 years since his conquests, the first Emperor never died. As a young man, when campaigning through the various kingdoms of the Vardessian Plain, he was wounded in battle, where he encountered Liamere, a princess of a fey realm located nearby. Though he was mortal, Liamere took pity on Gustav and took him into her castle to nurse him back to health. During this time, they came to know one another - and, though Gustav had married Iosa of Helmn, the two fell in love.

Both knew this was a fraught situation. It would surely shame the legitimacy of the Vardessian throne if its Emperor was unfaithful, and for a fey maiden to love a mortal was unheard of. So too, Gustav would eventually grow old and die. Liamere could not bear the thought of losing her beloved to the ravages of time, and she shared with him an elixir that would grant him eternal life.

But Gustav's mission was not done. He still had men waiting on him, and he still had many battles to fight before he had united Vardessy under his crown. He soon departed Liamere's castle to return to the mortal realm, where he rejoined his armies and cemented the power of his new empire.

In time, Gustav began to regret his tryst with the fey maiden, knowing that he had failed his loyalty to his wife. He returned to Falkenau to rule the empire, and never spoke of his deeds. But while the people around him - including his wife - grew old and died, Gustav remained young, for Liamere's blessing had made him immortal. He had ruled for seventy years, yet still appeared for all the world like a young man of twenty-five. He knew there would be questions - and so too, he was aware of the squabbles of his courtiers, many of whom would surely make plots against the throne if they suspected he was using unnatural means to prolong his lifespan and prevent anyone else from taking power.

At last, Gustav made a speech before his court where he admitted to his unfaithfulness. Knowing that there would be resistance to an eternal rule, and feeling it best to pass on his title, he abdicated the throne, dividing the Empire between his three sons, which began the first Vardessian Civil War as each of the heirs struggled for control over the empire. But Gustav would not be present to witness it.

He fled to Mount Euring, one of the highest peaks in the low Vardessian Plain, and a place he had become familiar with in his travels. Beneath the mountain there existed a great dwarven vault, one that he had been gifted with treasures from within. There, Gustav sealed himself, where he slumbered through the centuries so that when Vardessy needed him most, he would be ready to return. Until then, he would leave the Empire to other hands.

Today, the mountain is the site of the Abbey of the Eternal King, a Voltanite monastery that reveres Gustav as a living saint. Though their practices are not recognized as orthodoxy by the Cult, they remain a position of power in Vardessy as the guardians of the Emperor, safeguarding his vault so that he may be ready to protect his land in a time of great need, and they have been granted a fief to honor their service. The Emperor's vault is located deep within the bowels of Mount Euring, guarded by an ancient dwarf named Withun who Gustav personally entrusted with the duty of watching over his chambers.

The monks know the languages of the birds, and every year, Gustav wakes from his slumber for one day to ask of what has happened to Vardessy since he last awoke. One monk, always an elder entrusted with such a great honor, consults with the birds to hear everything they have witnessed that year, and relays the news to Gustav. Every year for the nearly 800 years, he has gone back to sleep, entrusting his successors with handling the situation. But it is said that should his aid be needed, he will take up the sword once again in the defense of the Empire.

Friday Encounter: Trial by Champion

This might seem like a simple combat encounter on paper, but what sets it apart is the context behind it. The goal here is to reframe combat in a new setting, presenting different overarching and long-term stakes that have the potential to alter the trajectory of a campaign, and introduce factions and NPCs that could influence further proceedings. Beyond that, it's a way to reference a fun historical anecdote I've always thought was ripe with gaming potential, and to remind your players that, in a non-Flintstonist setting, you can't always expect things to play out the way they would in our world.

The encounter is probably best suited for the road, but with some adjustments it could also work in a town. The party should come across two nobles, Fulbrecht Steinecker and Bertold von Langmessen. The two of them are embroiled in a fierce argument - in fact, they belong to rival houses, and their families have long held enmity for one another. They've always found every excuse to blame their failings on one another whenever possible, but the latest incident was the last straw, and they're at each others' throats.

When traveling the road, their carriages bumped into each other - which scraped the paint on a fine mural that Bertold had done on the side of his. Now, Bertold insists that Fulbrecht should pay him in compensation. In fact, Bertold is convinced that Fulbrecht had his carriage steered into his on purpose. Fulbrecht, on the other hand, insists that it was an accident, and that Bertold is being unreasonable - but his rival won't budge, and he has begun to suspect that Bertold is using this as an opportunity to slander his good name.

It has become apparent that the two men's arguing will get them nowhere. They have decided to settle the matter through the tradition of trial by champion - that is, each man nominates a warrior to stand for his cause, and the two duel each other. Voltan, the god of justice, will guide the two warriors so that the victor is he who stands for the righteous cause (at least, that's what everyone believes). Fulbrecht has nominated one of his personal bodyguards, Dagobert Dreschner - a sturdy, imposing man with a grim countenance and the scars of many battles - as his champion. Bertold knows that he can't put forth a warrior who could possibly stand a chance against Dagobert, but, unwilling to concede to his rival or look weak, he hasn't admitted this, insisting that his favored champion is sick. If he sees any worthy-looking warriors in the party, however, he will nominate them instead, seeing this as his chance to prove his righteousness!

Bertold will call the party over, explaining the situation (biased in his favor, of course) and imploring the PCs to name one of their number to fill in. This should ideally be a fighter or other martial class, but if you don't have any in the party or you feel like giving another character a chance to shine, you could easily tweak things - for instance, perhaps Dagobert is a mage, and the noblemen want to settle their dispute with a magical duel.

In any case, if the PCs agree, the nobles set the rules of the contest. Dagobert must be faced one on one; it is strictly prohibited for either champion to receive outside help. The champions cannot use magic or magical equipment to aid them. Bertold will provide his champion with a mundane longsword and shield to ensure they are an even match for Dagobert. The two warriors must remain within a ten-foot circle drawn in the dirt; if any part of one champion leaves it for whatever reason, their side forfeits the trial. Otherwise, the fight will continue until one warrior surrenders or falls unconscious. With that, the men say a prayer to Voltan to rightly guide the champions' weapons and step back to let the battle begin.

Dagobert has the stats of a gladiator. He will fight until he hits half HP (56), at which case he will surrender and concede that Bertold is right - Voltan has willed it so.

There are a number of ways the PCs can interact with this encounter. They might support Bertold's cause, but if they decide to take Fulbrecht's side, they may consider throwing the fight so that Fulbrecht comes out on top. If you want to give the PCs a more personal stake in the conflict, you can substitute Bertold and/or Fulbrecht for other nobles the PCs may have encountered before - friend or foe. But the two men will surely remember the PCs, and this may impact further adventures.

If the PC wins for Bertold, he will be thankful for the help and agree to pay the party 50 GP each. Furthermore, he will welcome the party to his manor, where they may rest and dine with his subjects. He will be happy to provide them support going forward, and may have other quests for them down the line. If he realizes he has some loyal hired muscle in the party, he may even seek to send them on missions to sabotage Fulbrecht, knowing that it would be unbecoming of him to be implicated himself. 

If, on the other hand, the PC loses, Bertold will be quick to blame their failings for his loss and insist he made a mistake in seeking the help of the PCs, since he didn't know them and couldn't trust them. He may be less forgiving if they are caught up to no good in his lands, and those loyal to him will spurn the party. Conversely, if Fulbrecht loses, he may hold a grudge against the party as well, and take action accordingly.

The Order of the Hammer

The Levic Marches are often held as the last bulwark of true civilization between the lands of the Northmen and the more settled lands beyond. But with such close proximity - not to mention the great wealth of the League cities, which naturally draws unscrupulous eyes - the Northmen are as much a threat to the people of the Marches as they are trading partners. Raids on coastal villages are practically a yearly inevitability, and even sieges of the great harbors are not uncommon. Such threats call for study defenses - and that is how the Order of the Hammer came to carve out its presence in the Levic lands.

The Order is a Vardessian monastic tradition devoted to Torvald, the god of protection, walls, and boundaries. Its members are almost all of Vardessian origin, and its headquarters are in the Vardessian city of Eulen. However, it is most prominent and powerful in the Levic marches, for the knights of the Order have carved out an empire of their own there.

The Order of the Hammer is a martial order - that is, its membership is composed largely of paladins who train in combat as much as they devote their lives to prayer and meditation, though some of its members are half-brothers; non-combatant monks who assist their brethren with day-to-day chores and other support positions. Secluded in their cloisters, the members of the Order live an ascetic existence. Their conditions are austere, for they do not believe in honoring the gods with grand icons or ceremonies, deeming such frivolities to be distractions from the pursuit of a life in keeping with Torvald's will. They do not even celebrate feast days or fraternize with one another at meals, living a simple life of prayer and training.

It goes without saying that when their whole lives are sworn to defense, the knights of the Order are fierce fighters. They traditionally don great helms and surcoats bearing their arms; often, these helmets are adorned with great horns or wings to intimidate their foes on the battlefield. They have a reputation as stoic, silent, and fearless killing machines, showing no quarter, no mercy, and an almost inhuman courage that defies reason. Some say that it is Torvald himself who guides their blows, and that the knights do not consciously make any decisions in battle - though they are reluctant to speak on the matter (or on most things).

Generations ago, the Order of the Hammer was hired to support the League of Three Crowns against Northmen incursions, with the League paying them handsomely to move to the Levic Marches and establish castles there. Seeking to advance their standing after failed attempts to entrench themselves elsewhere, the knights agreed. Even after the threats were dealt with, though, the knights chose to stay, in a decision that was controversial at the time and has indeed led to the Order establishing a foothold so firm as to rival the authority of the League.

Not only does the Order still send a delegation to the League Council in Hynden, they govern a number of strongholds, at once fortresses and monasteries, throughout the Marches, exerting authority as feudal lords to support their upkeep from the tithes of their vassals. As such, there are swathes of the Levic Marches where neither the League nor the crown of Kvesland can overturn the rulings of the knights - but then, the knights are keen to remind them of why their presence is a desirable one when the next Northman raid comes. And many League merchants have relied on the knights to provide protection for their ships and caravans against bandits and worse things.

In turn, the knights of the Order have helped to shape Vardessian settlement of the Levic Marches. When hired by the League, they brought with them mercenaries and other disenfranchised knights to support their ranks, and many of their officers were rewarded for their service with land conquered in their wars. Some of their monasteries have even developed into towns and cities of their own. These settlements show the stoic and unflinching character of the Order - they are meticulously planned according to organized grids, surrounded by sturdy walls, and often found where forests were cleared and swamps drained, their very presence standing as an assertation of the Order's refusal to budge.

As an organization, the Order of the Hammer is formally led by Hendrik von Eulen, the Grandmaster, who resides in Vardessy. However, the knights active in the Levic Marches have by necessity formed their own hierarchy thanks to their distance from their homeland. The position of Landmaster designates the official in charge of all Order operations in the Levic Marches. This position is currently held by Sigismund von Kohlstein, who rules from Castle Mitgenburg. The Landmaster is a cold and merciless man devoted to asserting the Order's presence in the Levic Marches by whatever means are necessary. Firmly devoted to his goals, he sees nothing as unacceptable or excessive in the pursuit of protecting trade routes and settlements, and he is rightfully feared both in battle and in personal dealings.

Sonderlunding Ancestor Worship

Although Sonderlund practices the Old Faith, its Old Faith is a different kind than that observed by the elves or the hillfolk of Vardessy, Kvesland, and Togarmah. Although there is obviously overlap between all these groups, what characterizes Sonderlunding religion is a belief in ancestral spirits as the chief forces that must be obeyed and appeased, and that allegiances are sworn to.

Many Sonderlundings can trace their lineage back to ancient times, and they maintain extensive genealogies, often recounted through a long and unbroken oral tradition. They do this to recount the heroic deeds of great ancestors, reiterating their glories and attesting to the reasons as to why they must be honored. Though Sonderlunding religion does not deny the existence of gods, demons, and other spirits, it asserts that their intentions are not as important as those of the ancestors - after all, they are distant creatures, existing on a level beyond mortal comprehension, whereas the ancestors were once men and know of earthly concerns. Surely, then, they would have the intentions of their descendants closer at hand.

Sonderlundings believe that one must respect the word of their ancestors and live by it. This reinforces the stratification of societal roles; if one had an ancestor renowned for great deeds in a particular field, it is held that their descendants must follow in their footsteps to honor their ancestor's contributions, and thus, Sonderlunding traditions tend to be a family affair - warriors beget warriors, artisans beget artisans, druids beget druids. Even more important, of course, is the ancestral oath. A Sonderlunding may make an official declaration that is to be recorded in history, and their descendants are expected to live by it and honor it throughout the generations. Much of Sonderlunding law is codified through the ancestral oaths of past thanes and kings, which are held to be permanent and binding, and a not insignificant task of the druids is to interpret these oaths, the situations in which they apply, and when, if ever, it is acceptable to act against them. To a Sonderlunding, defying the word of an ancestor is seen as the ultimate form of disrespect and dishonor, and is never taken lightly.

Sonderlunding tradition holds that the ancestors build great palaces in the Land of the Dead, and that when Death takes one's soul, they join the ranks of their forefathers, where they feast and rejoice together. However, the spirits of the ancestors may be called upon to affect some change, however limited, upon the mortal realm. Many villages in Sonderlund have a shrine devoted to a past ancestor that the people make offerings to so that their spirit is appeased and grants them guidance in their particular field, and Sonderlunding druids often invoke their ancestors to grant them power while casting spells. This means that one's ancestry is important in determining what prayers may be made - it is considered rude to call on someone else's ancestors, so ideally, ones' own lineage should have ancestors suitable for a given prayer. For instance, if one's great-great-grandmother was a forester, her spirit will be a better one to call upon for aid in tracking game than one's great-grand-uncle who was a shipwright. If all else fails, however, it is considered acceptable to make a general invocation to the ancestors for aid in a given task, if one does not know of a particular ancestor that applies.

All this carries a particular implication. Unlike in Pantheonism or Elementalism, where the most honorable cosmic forces are beyond mortals, it is possible - rather, inevitable - for mortals to become ancestors. Thus, Sonderlunding culture places a great deal of importance on achieving glory in one's field to ensure that one may become an ancestor worth praising and invoking, and to ensure one's deeds live on in history. One who dies without accomplishing anything particularly impressive is doomed to be forgotten - but a great hero is remembered. It is not uncommon for old Sonderlundings who believe they have not accomplished anything in life to go out and seek one last glorious deed to accomplish (or die trying) before their time is up, in order to ensure they may be venerated by future generations.

As a material consequence of ancestor worship, Sonderlund's landscape is dotted by graves, barrows, and runestones commemorating historic deeds. As much of the populace is illiterate, these markers serve as a means to record the stories of their ancestors, and they are deeply woven into oral tradition, to the point where directions in Sonderlund often make mention of a particular barrow or shrine as a point of reference (because of course everyone knows which barrow Colum mac Dubh the Slayer of Men is buried in).

It also means that in Sonderlunding culture, it is important to respect the dead. In most lands, necromancy is not strictly illegal in and of itself, but it does carry the unsavory connotations that go hand in hand with grave robbery and meddling with corpses. In Sonderlund, however, to defile a tomb is a grave sin, and one that will bring down the anger of the ancestors. Necromancy is almost always punished by death, though some have gotten around this by issuing an ancestral oath that their bodies may be reanimated after death if any descendants should wish to perform such experiments.

Lastly, it is a consequence of ancestor worship that progress in Sonderlund - particularly in the isolated Highlands - moves slowly. Technologies like plate armor and gunpowder, as rare and expensive as they are elsewhere, are practically unheard of in parts of Sonderlund, as people are wary of new and unfamiliar things that their ancestors did not know of. Sonderlunding culture has remained largely the same for centuries, in no small part due to the traditions of ancestor worship and ancestral oaths.

The Old Faith

In ancient times - before the times of great kingdoms - much of the western part of the continent was settled by small and secluded tribal villages, and these people followed what is now known as the Old Faith. Over the centuries, owing to migrations from the east and chieftains realizing that claiming the favor of divine beings was good for politics, the traditions of Pantheonism steadily took hold. Yet, the Old Faith still persists, in lonely villages, distant islands, and among the rough hillfolk who maintain their old existence in the deep valleys where the trade routes do not reach. The Sonderlundings, too, honor the Old Faith, bound as they are to follow the wishes of their ancestors, though the closer one gets to Vardessy the more influence there can be found from their Pantheonist neighbors. In the Highlands, however, the Old Faith is at its strongest. Many a Highlander will scoff at the Pantheonist's ways as those of soft and cowardly folk who must rely on foreign gods to protect them - though Pantheonists, in turn, often regard those of the Old Faith as backwards, superstitious barbarians, if not outright demon worshipers.

To consider the Old Faith as its own religion is a bit of a misnomer. While the cults of the gods have defined holy texts and formal officials, the Old Faith does not. It is rather a collection of various folk traditions, and no two communities share exactly the same beliefs. There are, however, a few common features among Old Faith cults that define them as belonging to such traditions, often by means of setting them apart from Pantheonist customs.

While Pantheonist temples are staffed by priests, monks, and nuns, followers of the Old Faith look to druids as their spiritual leaders - those who can commune with the natural world; who know secrets that other mortals do not, and who can serve as a go-between to bridge the gap between the worldly concerns of mortals and the machinations of higher beings. Rather than belonging to a specific order or creed, druids are often those with particular skills to make them well-suited for the job, and they may be mentored by elder druids to prepare them to step into the role when their time comes. They know many spells and rituals passed down from one generation to the next, ones that help them communicate with the spirits of all things, or to call upon their aid in times of need. As a part of their initiation, an apprentice druid may be sent out into the world on a journey, such that they may come to know and understand the land and accept their place in life.

Followers of the Old Faith do not have temples in the way Pantheonists do. They recognize the concept of holy ground, but often this is not land that is so sanctified through rituals or divine acts; rather, sacredness is something inherent to the land itself. A given hill or lake or tree may house a particularly powerful spirit, for instance, and the power of that spirit becomes the subject of reverence. Rather than building structures to gather and perform rituals, those of the Old Faith tend to perform much of their worship in the open air at these sacred places. To build a temple there, it is said, would be an act of disrespect to the spirits, as it would be to attribute importance to the works of mortal hands rather than to the sacred place itself. They do, however, mark sacred places with altars, cairns, and stone circles, many of which have stood for millennia.

Lastly, not all followers of the Old Faith worship gods as discrete entities. All things in the Lunar Lands have some degree of life force to them - even rocks and plants down to the last blade of grass or grain of sand - and many Old Faith traditions direct their worship to these spirits of the land. Others, particularly in Sonderlund, worship their ancestors, and some cults recognize deities of their own, though these tend to be strange gods specific to a given locality, many taking the form of animals, that are regarded as belonging to the community, if with much greater powers. Pantheonist theologians argue that these are in fact manifestations of their own gods, but many Old Faith believers scoff at such allegations, insisting that their gods are closer than the distant gods of foreigners, who must surely have greater problems to concern themselves with and would never heed the word of a mortal. Other Old Faith traditions direct their veneration to the Fair Folk, though less out of admiration, and more to appease these capricious spirits with offerings and placatory rituals so that their mischief does not bring ruin upon them. And others still worship the elves, who are seen as being closer to nature and to their fey forebears - in fact, many Old Faith traditions grew out of elvish customs, and almost all elven communities practice some form of the Old Faith, though they regard the traditions of humans as embarrassing corruptions of the true way.

Though largely supplanted by Pantheonism in more settled lands, the relationship the Old Faith has with the Pantheonists is not one of adversity or persecution. Worship of the Old Faith is not considered immoral, and it is not as a whole held as a ruse by demons (though some individual cults may be demonic in nature) except by the most fanatical of Pantheonists; as Hell is the domain of demons, mortal souls can only be sent there by directly selling their souls, not by following the wrong creed. Most Pantheonists simply regard followers of the Old Faith as backwards and parochial, whereas the worship of the gods is the path of modernity and embracing the brotherhood of one's fellow man instead of clinging to insularism and tradition - their worship is something to be laughed at rather than hated and feared. Though many Pantheonist saints are celebrated for introducing worship of the gods to lands once held by the Old Faith, this is not a victory over evil, but merely an advancement of the divine plan.

Ironically, in many regions that have long since embraced Pantheonism, the legacy of the Old Faith is not forgotten. There are many local rituals that can be traced back to origins in the Old Faith, and many folk saints may well be ancestral or nature spirits that were subsumed into Pantheonist traditions. If one is used to practicing the rituals of the Old Faith, after all, it is easier to simply claim that one's god was in fact an aspect of one of the Pantheon or one of their saints than it is to adopt an entirely new philosophy and traditions. There are many small villages where the local shrine is built over or nearby a sacred place of the Old Faith, and the ways in which locals conduct worship there are hardly any different from those of their ancestors.

Old Faith Cult Generator

This cult worships... (d6)

1. a local god

2. the spirit of a long-dead leader

3. the land itself

4. the fairies

5. a nearby clan of elves

6. a demon in disguise; roll again to determine what it masquerades as

...and meets at... (d6)

1. a sacred tree

2. an ancient stone circle

3. the summit of a holy mountain

4. the shore of a sacred lake

5. the homes of the faithful

6. a sacred cave

...to practice rites involving... (d10)

1. dancing and chanting

2. the sacrifice of crops

3. the sacrifice of animals

4. the sacrifice of humans

5. offering libations

6. designating a member of the congregation to marry the spirit and live as a hermit

7. ritual combat

8. assuming the forms of animals

9. hunting game to offer to the spirits

10. entering trances to consult with the spirits

...in order to... (d8)

1. obtain good harvests

2. ensure favorable weather

3. have victory in battle

4. placate otherwise harmful spirits

5. be blessed with prophetic visions

6. heal the sick and wounded

7. inflict curses upon one's enemies

8. come closer to understanding their cosmic purpose

Friday Encounter: The Shrine of Strength

This encounter may be used in several locations - at a stop alongside the road, in a town, in the wilderness, or even in a dungeon (which itself may exist as an additional trial one must pass in order to get to the shrine). To make the most of the encounter, it is best to plant it as a rumor before the PCs come across it, and have NPCs mention the shrine or express their desire to partake in its challenge. This way, the PCs will want to attempt the shrine's challenge, or perhaps seek it out.

Some way or another, the party comes upon a shrine dedicated to Kord, the god of strength and victory. Yes, I basically just lifted him from Greyhawk, but unlike a lot of D&D-original gods, he feels like something out of ancient mythology, so I've always liked him. The center of the shrine holds a huge bolder festooned with many-colored ribbons, overseen by the shrine maiden, a stern and well-muscled woman named Lisbeth Brandle. The shrine maiden explains that, according to a local prophecy, anyone who has the strength to move the boulder will be a great champion of Kord and win his favor. Many have attempted to move the boulder (indeed, the PCs may see other visitors to the shrine attempt to put themselves up to the challenge, unsuccessfully, during their visit), but no one has managed to succeed.

Naturally, the PCs may wish to get themselves involved. To successfully move the boulder, one must make a DC 27 Athletics check (in other words, a very difficult task, but one that is possible for mortals to achieve). They may also attempt to push themselves while attempting to move the boulder - if so, they get Advantage on their attempt, but on a failed attempt, they pull a muscle and have Disadvantage on all STR rolls (both ability checks and attack rolls) for the next week. They can also clear this condition if they spend two days resting with no physical activity.

As the shrine maiden explains, Kord favors those who can perform such a great feat of strength by their own merits. Attempting the challenge with assistance from others, or magical enhancement (such as spell effects or magic items that give a bonus to Strength) is considered cheating. If PCs attempt to cheat, Kord will know this, and any benefit to their roll they might obtain through these means are nullified. If they fail the challenge despite cheating, Kord will strike them with a curse that gives them Disadvantage on all Strength-based checks and attack rolls, and halves all damage from attack rolls based on Strength (as a ray of enfeeblement spell) until they perform a quest or an act of penance to get back in the god's favor. If they cheat but make the check anyway, see below.

If the PC succeeds on the check, Lisbeth drops to her knees and supplicates herself before Kord's chosen champion, congratulating them on fulfilling the prophecy. The PC will be greeted as a hero whenever they return to the area. In addition, during the next long rest, the PC will be visited by Kord in a dream, who recognizes them as having the strength worthy of being his champion. He will then give them a quest worthy of such a great hero - ideally something requiring great feats of physical strength, such as diverting the course of a river or slaying a monster. Basically, think of something with the same vibes as the Labors of Hercules. If the PC cheated at the challenge but still passed, Kord will add a further caveat that they must fulfill to prove their worthiness - for instance, they may need to kill a great monster with their bare hands. If they succeed at his quest, Kord may grant them a further blessing or a magical weapon as a token of his favor - or he may even have further tasks for his new champion.

One possible avenue for this plotline to go is for Kord's task to see him using mortal proxies to further a feud between him and another god - for instance, he may task the PCs with stealing one of Torvald's sacred sheep. If so, things could escalate even further, with the Mortal Realm getting caught up in the midst of it...

Friday Encounter: A Pilgrim's Burdens

This encounter should be used when the PCs are on a road, on a journey from one place to another along the route. It will have the most impact if the system you're using has encumbrance rules and if the players track them.

Dark Souls III

While traveling the road, the party should cross paths with an old man heading the same direction they are. He has a long white beard, and he wears a wide-brimmed hat and a weather-beaten cloak pinned by a seashell; a DC 7 Religion check will indicate that this is the mark of a pilgrim. His back is bent and stooped over with age, and he teeters along on a walking stick. Most notable, however, is the fact that he is carrying a great load of bags on his back, clearly struggling against their weight - his body shudders as he moves, and the bags bulge from the load shifting around inside of them. As he walks, one of the many satchels he carries on his back splits open, and a few gold coins and jewels spill onto the road behind him; he continues on his path, seemingly unaware of this.

The "pilgrim" is, in fact, Meili, the god of roads and travelers. Characters that pass a DC 15 Religion check will know that Meili often walks the roads in disguise to test the virtues of mortals; clerics or paladins of Meili, or characters with the Acolyte background that belonged to an order devoted to him, will know this automatically. As a matter of fact, Meili intends to test them through this encounter.

If the PCs ignore the pilgrim, nothing of note happens - but as soon as he is out of their field of vision, the next time they look in the direction he was, both he and the spilled wealth are nowhere to be seen. Nothing else happens.

If the PCs attempt to help the man carry his burdens, or point out the money he's dropped, he will be grateful for their aid and commend them on the care they are willing to show another traveler. He mentions he is on a pilgrimage to a shrine not far from where the party is headed to, and asks to join them, citing that a weary old man like him is at the mercy of bandits and the elements if he was to make the trip alone. Optionally, you could spin this out into a whole escort mission, introducing other encounters along the way (such as an attack by highwaymen, or a rickety bridge that the man is liable to fall from); at each step along the way, Meili will be judging the PCs for their honesty and their courtesy to their fellow wayfarers, especially those weaker than they are. He will also ask them questions about who they are and where their journeys have brought them - but he may make reference to information about the PCs' pasts or other adventures that they have not shared, indicating he is more than he seems.

Once the PCs are within sight of their destination, when they are out of sight of any onlookers, Meili reveals himself. He tells the party they have passed his test and that they display all the virtues an honorable traveler would. As a reward, he will grant them a blessing - the next time they embark on a journey of similar length, they will find they are able to make it in less time than they anticipated, and arrive at their destination in half the time it would take them otherwise.

If, however, the PCs try to steal the man's treasure, or attack him or otherwise accost him, Meili will be displeased. He suddenly rises to his full height with strength and spryness defying his apparent age, and announces in a booming voice that the PCs are cruel and callous ruffians who would take advantage of an old man, no better than bandits. He will then inflict a curse upon them that they may bear the weight of their sins!

PCs receiving the curse will find that the weight they are carrying is unnaturally heavy and cumbersome. The weight of all the items in their inventory is multiplied by three if they tried to steal the pilgrim's wealth without him noticing, or by five if they attacked him. If using other encumbrance systems, feel free to come up with a suitable effect that carries the same penalty (for instance, for a slot-based encumbrance system, the PCs may lose two-thirds or four-fifths of their slots). Alternatively, PCs traveling under the increased load take a level of Exhaustion each day unless they abandon two-thirds or four-fifths by weight of their inventory. As this is an act of divine intervention, a remove curse spell or similar effect will not alleviate the curse; it will only go away when the PCs reach their destination, hopefully having learned something from the ordeal.

The Shrine of the Most Holy Death

Founded as it was by Taldameeri exiles, the culture of Valossa has much in common with that of Taldameer, but influences from the natives of the islands have allowed it to develop into something all its own. The Taldameeri influence is strongest in Porto Libre, but even there, one will see some things unlike anything on the mainland. One particular way in which the two cultures differ is in their veneration of Morthanos.

On the mainland, the worship of Death is a grim and dour affair. Black is the color used in the overwhelming majority of his temples and icons, and his clergy is called upon to perform last rites for the departed to help them find passage to the Land of the Dead. The cult of Death is particularly strong in Taldameer, where his Grand Temple sits in the city of Olarra. In Porto Libre and its surrounding lands in southern Valossa, there are a number of temples and monasteries devoted to Morthanos that practice the quiet seclusion and mournful colors of the Olarran orthodoxy. But further afield, there can be found a cult of Death quite dissimilar, but no less powerful.

This cult is based out of the city of San Catrina, which sits above the deserts that characterize much of western Valossa, and the temple of Death there is almost as large and just as popular as that in Olarra. Rather than dressing in dark vestments and conducting rites in whispers, however, the Valossan cult of Death favors vivid colors, elaborate patterns, and an almost festive atmosphere. Their priesthood preaches that death is not something to be feared, but celebrated, as a natural part of the life cycle and as the moment the soul of the deceased reunites with their ancestors. Priests of Death can be seen walking the streets with masks and painted faces depicting many-colored skulls, and altars to placate wandering ghosts with offerings of fruits and liquor can be found on any street corner. But nowhere is San Catrina more festive than on the occasion of Samhain.

On this day, Valossans celebrate both the rightful guidance of Death, who keeps the workings of the world in motion, and their ancestors who have since made the passage to the Land of the Dead. At just about every dinner table, a seat is left for the spirits of the ancestors when they wander the Mortal Realm on this day, and the memories of the dead are celebrated with stories and toasts to their accomplishments. Candies in the shape of decorated skulls are often passed out by the cult, as offerings of good fortune and protection.

It has been argued that these traditions show a closer link to the ancestor worship of Sonderlund than to conventional Morthanos worship, leading some scholars to propose a syncretic origin tracing back to the beliefs and rituals of Old Faith believers that dwelled on the Valossan islands before the founding of Porto Libre. Even the veneration of the god themselves takes on a very different form - in Valossa, it is not uncommon for Morthanos to be perceived as a goddess, appearing as a skeletal woman draped in robes.

Relations between the Olarran and San Catrinian cults of Death have been shaky. The official statement of Morthanos's cult is that, although the rituals, practices, and perceptions of the Valossan heterodoxy may be unusual, they do not contradict the revelations of the patriarchs of Olarra, and the Valossan death goddess is merely Morthanos in another form. However, some traditionalists find the festive atmosphere surrounding the solemn occasion of death distasteful - and this has led to friction between San Catrina and Porto Libre, where the Olarran traditions are more common.

The cult of San Catrina has been gaining favor in the capital, however. Within the last decade, a shrine to the Lady of Death - the Shrine of the Most Holy Death - was erected in the Temple District of Porto Libre, tended to by a maiden, Teofilia Rosario, whose aunt was a devotee of the Valossan tradition before her, but who kept her worship to the privacy of her own home. Teofilia's shrine represents the most powerful presence the San Catrina cult has held in Porto Libre proper, and despite opposition from Olarran sects, it has grown a sizeable congregation of its own. Some clerics have attempted to stop this cult in its tracks before it grows to rival their own - but rumors speak of ill fortune following those who dishonor the Shrine, and few are willing to test them.

Furthermore, the cult of San Catrina has even begun to expand beyond the isles. Valossan pirates introduced the practices to the ports of Taldameer and the City-States, where they have taken a limited foothold. In these lands, the death goddess - dubbed the Thin Lady - is often perceived as an entity distinct from Morthanos. And this belief has led to her cult becoming popular among criminals and outlaws, who feel it unwise to pray to more conventional gods in conducting underhanded acts. But surely invoking a goddess not recognized by the Pantheonist cults would not bring such inauspicious fortunes...