The Year of the Gazetteer: A Retrospective

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With the Year of the Gazetteer behind us, I'd like to think back on how much it has done for this blog in the last twelve months. We went from averaging about two and a half posts a month in 2022 and 2023 to having at least 10 a month, with 2024 having 149 posts - my most productive year by far. I created 13 hex maps (counting Ochsebad) of various regions in my long-running Lunar Lands setting, which has hosted almost every campaign I've run since middle school - altogether detailing 33,543 hexes and 229,233 square miles of setting. That's an area a little smaller than Madagascar if smushed together, although the areas are not contiguous. I also wrote several articles, including lore, adventure hooks, and homebrew game material, that detailed different parts of my setting, fulfilling the purpose I made this blog for in the first place but never knew where to start with. Keep your eyes out for a Lunar Lands index in the future, where I will catalogue this material.

I learned a couple things along the way. Originally, I intended to use three-mile hexes for every map - I'm inclined to agree with Mythlands' points about this scale - but as I expanded beyond Switzerland-sized Lescatie I realized that it would just be unfeasible to keep making maps in that scale on a regular basis. After the undertaking that was Togarmah, I realized that even doing six-mile-hex maps of many regions was too big to do in detail, and most of the maps are only partial segments of their respective regions. Nevertheless, I still think there's more than enough to last a good few campaigns. Maybe some day I'll go back and fill in the gaps with hex maps of the remaining areas, but for now, it's a project I'm quite satisfied with.

Out of all the maps, the one that's gotten the most attention has been that of the Freikantons, which has sat in my list of most popular posts for some time now. I suspect this comes from its links to Ochsebad, which I submitted for the Summer Lego RPG Setting Jam at DIY & Dragons, realizing how I could contribute to both projects (which was a lot of fun!). Or maybe bitches just love the Old Swiss Confederacy. Who knows.

From here, I want to go from a big success (at the time of this writing, my post on terrain rules for combat is still my biggest success) to what I consider my biggest failed experiment. This didn't happen last year but the year before, but back then, I wrote a post about how the setting of the anime Puella Magi Madoka Magica would work well for an OSR campaign. I still think that, but I'm sad to say I don't think that's a campaign that will ever see the light of day. Though the post brought a lot of attention to my blog - even making it onto the OSR subreddit, somehow - a lot of the discourse there made me realize that there is not a lot of overlap between why I enjoyed Madoka Magica and why everyone else did.

I should note that I got into the series very early on in its run, I believe the day it blew up online as soon as the third episode aired (if you know, you know), and at that time, there had not been much in the way of character development; what drew me in was the interesting and very gameable setting and magic system, which seemed like it was going somewhere. I thought that setting would lend itself well to OSR gameplay. However, most of the reception I got was about how OSR systems don't model interpersonal dynamics well, despite me stating this was the aspect of the series I found the weakest. What I realized was that it's been over ten years, and most people now know Madoka Magica for the character-driven show it ended up becoming. I found the setting interesting but the characters unlikeable, whereas the fandom generally finds the characters likeable but the setting uninteresting (or at least unimportant). Nowadays, anyone wanting to play a game in the Madoka Magica universe is probably going to expect a depressed lesbian psychodrama instead of the horror-infused dungeon-delving sandbox about grappling with the limits of your own humanity I wanted to run, and that isn't really the kind of campaign I would be interested in running.

Anyway, I bring all of this up because this experience has taught me absolutely nothing.

Art by Martin Rodriguez

2025: The Year of the Barbarian

Barbarism is the natural state of mankind. Civilization is unnatural. It is a whim of circumstance. And barbarism must always ultimately triumph.

- Robert E. Howard

Crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their women.

- Arnold Schwarzenegger

Gee, if only I was a half-naked, super-ripped dude who could solve every single problem with one blow from his enchanted blade, THEN maybe I could get some gasoline and a lower interest rate on my home loan.

- Misterkitty's Stupid Comics

Lately, I've gotten deeply into a specific kind of fantasy. Sword-and-sorcery blood-and-thunder barbarian hero pulp heroic fantasy. The likes of Conan, Kull, Red Sonja, Fafhrd, Thongor, we can offer an honorable mention to Dave. While barbarians in the Lunar Lands tend to look more like ancient Celts or Germanics, I can't deny that I don't love myself a good Frazetta or Vallejo mighty-thewed warrior, in its own context.

I've been getting into not only 30s barbarian pulp, but also 70s barbarian comics, a surprisingly deep genre that Trey at From the Sorcerer's Skull has written plenty about. He's even done some writings of a game meant to emulate that milieu. I have him to credit for introducing me to Arak, Son of Thunder, which would have gotten into the Lunar Lands Appendix N had I not discovered it so recently and had there not been other, longer-standing influences to include It got me thinking of how I could do something like that myself - and, in particular, there are a few settings I've looked at that I feel would lend themselves well to such an approach. Neither are my own creation, but both I feel tap into the well of sword and sorcery goodness in their own ways.

One is a setting from the second big wave of pulp fantasy that I find incredibly gameable, and which has had a much bigger influence on the tabletop RPG world than many people realize, most likely due to its (in my opinion undeserved) bad reputation. The other is a setting I have talked about here on the blog several times already, one which, despite its association with another popular comic artist (to the point where most people overestimate how much involvement he had in it), I think would shine with a reinterpretation in the Mighty Marvel Manner under the theoretical pen of Roy Thomas. I intend to explore each of these in a forthcoming series of posts.

I'll still be posting the occasional Lunar Lands lore, of course - but we'll take a detour that will ring in the Year of the Barbarian! Stay tuned for what's to come!

Tennurhaf Hex Map

What better way to end the Year of the Gazetteer than with one last hex map? This one covers the Tennurhaf. As there's a lot of empty space, each hex equals twelve miles.

Click here to enlarge

The Althing

Government in the North is a far less codified affair than it is in other lands. The land is rugged, the weather is harsh, and the people are wont to engage in raiding - all factors that limit such things as trade, taxation, and the dissemination of orders. But perhaps for that exact reason, there is a need for some structures to bring order to a chaotic land. In much of the North, and in the Tennurhaf in particular, governance is accomplished through the tradition of the althing, at once a meeting of parliament and a festival that draws people from across the land.

Each of the petty kingdoms and clans of the North follow their own schedule for these meetings, but generally, an althing is held at least once a year. It calls for an assembly of chieftains and leaders representing each of the territories in a given realm, who speak on behalf of their people. In larger kingdoms, there may be a system of regional things that deal with more local matters, and appoint delegates to represent a given locality at the national althing. At these events, a class of lawspeakers - those wise men tasked with memorizing and reciting the legal code, given that literacy is rare in the North - read the law aloud, and are called upon to inform judgments. Althings are public affairs; any free person is welcome to attend, and is entitled to speak as much as they please at a designated site. Through this, cases and grievances are brought up before the chieftains and lawspeakers by the people so that they can pass their judgment on them, and so that they can understand what matters concern the common folk.

Typically, what happens is that a citizen brings up a dispute, the lawspeakers advise the chieftains, and the chieftains (or the king, if there is one; in these societies, a monarch typically acts under the counsel of their vassal chieftains) pronounce a final verdict. In most corners of the North, the chieftains have no power to enforce a law; that is left up to the people themselves, usually the family of the aggrieved. For instance, if one is deemed to owe another party a fine, then the chieftains can confirm this is the case, but it is the party that is owed who must see to it that the money is collected, by whatever means are necessary.

The Northmen typically settle disputes through the paying of weregild - that is, each person is deemed to have a specific monetary value, and if they are killed or harmed, that value must be made up, either through monetary payments or through killing another of that value. This, predictably, has led to many bloody feuds and kin-strifes which threatened in some cases to upend society. To prevent such a thing from happening, the Northmen began to observe the althing so that disputes could be settled without bloodshed running out of control. Often, an althing will see people brought together from multiple villages, clans, or tribes - because of this, they are always held on what is deemed neutral ground, always a space designated for the occasion and usually at a spot easily accessible from all corners of the realm. It is rare that these spaces are designed for permanent habitation, and most attendees stay in tents and temporary dwellings.

Nevertheless, with so many people coming from so long a distance to meet at the althing, the occasion has grown into something akin to a local festival. It is an opportunity for merchants and craftsmen to showcase their work to new clients, for would-be sellswords to find patrons, and for markets to be held. Althings can last for days at a time - that of Jerrborg, for instance, lasts for two weeks in the spring - and there are plenty of diversions to keep one occupied. Skalds sing, games like bowling, axe-throwing, and tafl (a board game similar to chess) are held, and so are contests of strength, like stone-tossing and wrestling between both men and horses (usually against an opponent of the same species, but not always). For many, the althing is a social event; for some that is more important than its political functions.

It must be noted that the althing is a system intended to keep the peace in a tumultuous land - and thus, neutrality is very important. No one is allowed to bear weapons at an althing, or to shed blood. There may be more than just social ostracism at stake - it is common for arcane rituals and sacrifices to be made at these events to consecrate them to the gods, and many sites are marked by enchanted runestones. Those who defy the rules of the althing may well bring a powerful curse down upon them.

Jerrborg

There are a great many islands in the Tennurhaf, ranging from humble sea-stacks to realms in their own right. The largest of them all, however, is Jerrborg. It was one of the first islands of the Tennurhaf to be settled by the Northmen, and as such boasts a robust population, more settled than many in the region - though the harsh winters and the constant raiding and kin-strife of the people keep it from seeing much peace.

All of Jerrborg is united under a single ruler, the Jarl Haakon Wolf-Eye. He rules from his mead-hall in the town of Erikstead (hex 114.035). A respectable port - the largest in the Tennurhaf, in fact - Erikstead sees traffic from various Northmen clans and kingdoms in the summer market fairs; sometimes, traders from as far as Kvesland and Vardessy come here too to bring furs to southern lands. Haakon rules with a fair hand, rewarding his peoples' valor in battle with treasure from his vast hoard, but the warrior spirit in him has not died out - he was a raider in his youth before being granted the kingdom when the previous Jarl died and gave him the throne as a token of his gratitude for faithful service. Deep down, Haakon has not accepted the settled life, and still desires the life of adventure and glory - this means that he may shirk his duties if a great enough opportunity raises its head, but that may put his domain at risk.

Other settlements in Jerrborg include Raunhofn (hex 111.031), a modest coastal settlement that survives off of fishing and whaling. The summer marks a great whale hunt, where all the townspeople descend to their boats and set out on the water to hunt with spears and harpoons; one who can slay the greatest whale will receive great honor for the rest of the year. Notably, the local definition of "whale" is a loose one, and many winners have in fact slain krakens and sea serpents, though even if vanquishing such beasts is a heroic deed, they are not quite as favored from a productive statement - their carcasses are not as useful as a true whale's.

Also is Anarfell (hex 112.034), a logging community in the wooded foothills that surround Jerrborg's central mountains. The locals here are quite superstitious, and have many charms to protect them against elves and other fair folk; they shut their doors at night, and are reluctant to give their names out to strangers, lest they be delivering them to the fey to curse them with. Their suspicions have some truth for them, for there is a village of elves not far from Anarfell (hex 113.033). These elves, however, are not keen on terrorizing their neighbors, for they themselves dwell in the shadow of the red dragon Baelfir, who calls the mountains his domain. The dragon can be found above the peaks of the mountains, but his cave is located in hex 114.032, where he rests upon a great golden hoard. He may also be found on the shores of the volcano at hex 113.032, where he bathes in magma and consumes fire-roasted stones to temper his fiery breath. Baelfir is a capricious creature, prone to launching attacks on nearby settlements for no reason other than his own amusement, but like many dragons, he is also vain and takes pride in his majesty, and can easily be distracted with the songs of his praises.

Like many places in the North, Jerrborg is home to a number of runestones and stone circles. One, on the southern shore (hex 111.034), marks the site of Jerrborg's annual althing, an assembly of the island's peoples for trading, celebration, and holding court on legal matters. The assembly takes place in a low depression on the shore, said to have been a footprint left by a giant in some ancient bygone age. As much of Jerrborg's population is concentrated around the southwest coast, this location was chosen for its ease of access from all major settlements on the island. At these assemblies, laws are spoken, challenges are made, and all matter of goods may be sold and games may be played - it is a fine time to seek work.

On the northern moors, however, a small stone circle (hex 113.030) stands on the cliffs overlooking the shore. The stones are carved with images of men and women in flight. If a goat is sacrificed here and its blood spilled on the altar, whoever makes the sacrifice shall be able to fly short distances at a time until the coming of the next full moon. Of course, there are also rumors of wicked cults meeting at this site for darker purposes...

A final secret is that the line of ruling jarls today were not the first people to colonize Jerrborg. Northmen attempted to settle on the north of the island many ages before, but the harsh winters - and the watchful eye of Baelfir - doomed their settlement to a tragic end. However, the remains of those warriors' fortress still sit in the forest (hex 116.032) - along with the barrows of the men slain in those early conflicts, who shall still rise to defend them if need be.

Friday Encounter: Fisherman's Folly

Art by Jeff A. Menges

This encounter takes place in a village - ideally a small one by the coast. If the party is already in such an environment, it can be used there, or the village could be one encountered on the road. Like last week's encounter, it was written under the assumption of taking place in the North and includes some relevant details, but the core conflict is setting-agnostic. As always, don't be afraid to tweak the details to suit your campaign.

Background

While fishing off the coast, Hallbjorn, a local fisherman, found something unusual in his net. In addition to the usual bounty of fish, he caught a small serpent, about the size of his arm from the elbow down. At first, he believed the beast to be an eel, and brought it along with the rest of his catch to sell at the market. However, Hallbjorn's wife, Refna, was able to recognize this was no eel. He had caught a baby sea serpent!

Taking pity on the poor creature, Hallbjorn decided to raise it in the shallows near his home, feeding it fish he couldn't sell on the market. The creature soon became the talk of the town, with many villagers stopping by to see the beast - and some coming from even further afield. At first, Hallbjorn's monster - as the little creature came to be called - was merely a matter of curiosity for those in the area. However, it soon grew from a curiosity to a nuisance.

The creature quickly began to grow, and so too did its appetite. When fish alone could not sustain it, it began to swim along the coast, snatching chickens and small dogs that came near the shore. It only grew bigger and bigger, and is now the size of a newborn calf. As the creature grew to be more of a problem, and the novelty wore off, the people began to make up their mind about it - it needed to go. The problem is, Hallbjorn refuses to give it up...

The Encounter

The PCs might happen upon the village by circumstance when passing through on the road, or they might hear rumors of Hallbjorn's monster and decide to look into it for themselves. If they arrive in town, Hallbjorn will be happy to show them the serpent and retell the story. But the PCs should also become aware that the rest of the townsfolk are growing restless - indeed, there is hot debate on the streets and in the taverns. It's inevitable that they'll pick up some word.

One faction, led by the town woodcutter Agnar Giermundsson, holds that the creature is a menace and must be dealt with as such - after all, it has already killed several chickens and threatened the livelihoods of farmers. If such a thing continues, surely it is only a matter of time until it devours a child. Hallbjorn and his wife, however, maintain that the creature is harmless, and that killing it would be unnecessarily cruel. They insist that it is only a baby, and it would not be fair to it to punish it for engaging in its natural behaviors. Soon enough, they claim, it will learn to hunt on its own and eat fish further out to shore - the only problem is, the monster shows no signs of doing that any time soon. In fact, it has grown quite fond of being able to get all the food it wants so close to shore, and has stuck around.

The debates are growing heated, and it is clear that this cannot stand for long, lest it tear the village apart. If the PCs do not step in, Agnar's men are fully prepared to take matters into their own hands.

Further Developments

If the PCs do not resolve the dilemma within three days of arriving on the scene, Agnar will decide enough is enough, and rally a mob to kill the creature in the night. If the PCs are among this mob, or kill the monster on their own, Hallbjorn will be distraught, and slaughters one of his horses so that he can construct a nithing pole. Accusing the strangers of inciting the town to such an act of cowardice and dishonor, he pronounces the apparent leader of the party (if there is no leader, choose one at random) a nithingr and places a curse on them. The affected PC is afflicted with ill fortune for the next month. If they roll a natural 20 on any roll, they must re-roll it and keep the new roll (ie, the opposite of a halfling's Lucky trait).

Alternatively, the PCs may decide to resolve the feud by taking the monster with them. This has its own complications - as a sea serpent, it cannot walk on land except for short distances at a time, and must remain in the water. It will require them to feed it in order to keep it from straying back to the village it considers its home - and, as the creature gets bigger, it will only become harder and harder to keep satiated, let alone to transport easily. However, if the PCs can pull it off, they may have a sea serpent on their side, which presents its own advantages.

Either way, a month after the encounter, the serpent's mother will manage to track her offspring down. If Hallbjorn's monster remains at the village, the inhabitants may be in even greater danger than a mere feud would cause them. And if the creature was harmed, there will surely be hell to pay...

Magic Items of the Tennurhaf

The Northmen possess an extensive series of mystic traditions, and in the Tennurhaf, those traditions have been perfected through the years. The people of the Sea of Teeth are renowned as some of the greatest magicians among the Northmen, and many Northern grimoires come from this region. Magicians in the Tennurhaf have developed and recorded many sigils, or staves, in order to imbue objects with magical power. By inscribing these symbols on paper talismans and sewing or placing them into items, a consistent magical effect can reliably be reproduced. Here are a few of such items documented in the mystic tomes of the Tennurhaf.

Art by Caitlin Fitzgerald

Corpse Breeches

Wondrous Item, very rare, requires attunement

Among the more well-known rituals of Tennurhaf mysticism is that to create a set of corpse breeches - a set of enchanted trousers made from the skin of a dead man. Although the process of creating them is morbid, the breeches are surprisingly pedestrian in their use, for they are usually used by magicians to create an ready supply of money. However, they carry a curse. The art of making corpse breeches was taught to mortals by a demon known as Orkku the Bloated Prince, and as part of the pact that imparted the world with this knowledge, anyone who uses them will condemn their soul to Hell, unless they can pass on the curse before they die.

Corpse breeches are made from the entire skin of a corpse, which must have an intact scrotum, from the waist down, and are worn over the wearer's skin. Contained in a pocket made from the corpse's scrotum are 1d4 coins (roll 1d10: 1-3. copper; 4-6. silver, 7. electrum, 8-9. gold, 10. platinum) and a piece of paper with a sigil inscribed on it. When one is attuned to the breeches, the amount of coins in the pocket doubles each day, as long as it contains at least one of the same denomination it started with. If coins are placed in the pocket after the fact, they are not doubled. The coins will always be of the same denomination and disappear from the possession of others nearby, instantaneously transporting to the breeches. This means that as the breeches accrue money, it will disappear from the possession of others - who may begin to suspect something is afoot, if this continues.

Once one attunes to a set of corpse breeches, they cannot be removed unless by breaking the spell on them (either by emptying the scrotum completely of coins or removing the sigil), causing them to permanently become an ordinary (if disturbing) pair of leather pants. The only other way to remove the breeches is by passing on the curse. The only way to attain a set, then, is to either make them through a ritual or to have them passed to you.

Corpse breeches may only be made from someone who has given consent while alive for their skin to be used to make the breeches upon death. Many magicians make pacts with one another that if one of them dies before the other, the other will make corpse breeches from his body. They must be worn immediately after flaying them from the corpse, and then a coin that was stolen from a widow during one of the days of the Wheel of the Year must be deposited into the scrotum along with the sigil. Once this is complete, the pants attune to the creator and begin to summon money to them.

If someone attuned to a pair of corpse breeches is on their deathbed, they may pass the curse on to another, in which case they lose attunement with the breeches and can remove them; the breeches will then become attuned to another humanoid designated by their previous wearer as soon as they are donned. If a creature dies while still attuned to corpse breeches, their soul is immediately condemned to Hell. They do not make death saves, may not cheat Death, and cannot be revived or communed with (via speak with dead or similar effects) by any means short of retrieving their soul from Hell directly.

Nithing Pole

Wondrous Item, uncommon

In the Northern tongues, the term nithingr - often translated as "outlaw," but this doesn't capture all the intricacies of the term - refers to a person marked for dishonorable conduct. A person can be pronounced a nithingr for a number of reasons, such as breaking an oath, showing cowardice, committing murder, or failing to show up to a holmgang. The Northmen take this punishment quite seriously, for there is more at stake than merely one's social status. To be declared a nithingr involves a ritual in which a nithing pole is used, which often (but not always) marks the target with a supernatural curse to punish them for their dishonor.

To construct a nithing pole, one must sacrifice an animal (usually a horse, but a calf, sheep, or goat may be used if one is unavailable) and attach its head to a wooden pole. When the pole is directed so that the head is facing the target, and the end of the pole is beat against the ground three times with the word "Nithingr!" called out each time, the user can cast bestow curse regardless of how far away the target is. If the user does not have any levels in a spellcasting class, the DC to save against this curse is 10.

Glima Boots

Wondrous Item, uncommon

A popular sport among the Northmen is a form of wrestling known as glima, in which participants grab one another by the belt or shoulders and attempt to throw their opponents off their feet. Wrestling contests can be found at many a feast and assembly, especially in the Tennurhaf. It was rather inevitable, then, that enchantments and charms would be developed to ensure good luck in these contests. Some contests ban this, while others consider the use of magic to be a valid tactic, as one is using everything at their disposal to win.

Several Tennurhaf grimoires describe the use of a set of sigils that are woven into the inside of the wearer's boots - one under the heel of the right boot, and one under the toe of the left boot. While one wears these boots, they have Advantage on any checks made to grapple an opponent, and any grapple attacks made against them are made at Disadvantage.

Tilberi

Among hedge witches in the Lunar Lands, there are innumerable spells to steal milk from the teats of cows and deliver it straight to the caster - it allows one to have a steady source of food without needing to invest in land to keep livestock oneself. In the Tennurhaf, most witches accomplish this by creating a particular kind of magical construct known as a tilberi.

A tilberi can only be created by a woman. To do this, she must exhume a recently buried body and take a rib from the corpse, then wind it around a sheaf of stolen grey wool and keep the bundle between her breasts for three weeks. At the end of each week, she must spit wine into the bundle. After the third time this is done, the bundle develops a face at each end, and must be placed against the creator's thigh, which it will suckle blood from, leaving a wart. At this point, the tilberi is complete.

The tilberi will loyally obey the wishes of its master, who it regards as its mother. Although the first tilberis were created to contain milk, they are capable of storing any fluid substance and expelling it from their mouths on command. Some inventive witches have experimented with other uses for the tilberi, such as using them as ambulatory potion bottles, or as guardians, spitting acid at intruders or sucking blood from their wounds. It should be noted, however, that tilberis are cowardly creatures and will run back to their "mother" if threatened.

For more on tilberis, see this article from A.C. Luke.

Click to enlarge

The Frozen North

There is a land further to the north than even the domain of the Northmen. On the northern shore of the Tennurhaf, connected to the mainland by a chain of rocky islands, lies the Frozen North, or the Northern Wastes. Whatever one wishes to call them, the names this land has accrued describe it quite well. There is nothing that grows in these lands, even by the standards of the Tennurhaf. They are so far from the sun's path that its warmth scarcely touches them, and they are shrouded in darkness for half the year. Most land is buried beneath a thick glacier, but even what little is not is rough and unsuitable for growing anything - the barren soil and the frigid climes cannot sustain anything more than lichen.

The Frozen North was not settled by the Northmen until long after they charted the many islands of the Tennurhaf. It is unknown what led them to do so. Perhaps they were motivated by exile from more temperate lands, or merely driven by the challenge of taming such an inhospitable place. More likely, however, the Northmen established camps on the shores of the Northern Wastes on expeditions to hunt for seals and whales, and some of these camps, positioned at strategic locations and along important routes, proved to have staying power, growing into settlements of their own.

Those settlements are by no means great cities, of course. Even by the standards of the Tennurhaf, they are small. They have little in the way of chieftains - when each family must struggle to sustain themselves, they have no time for politics; instead, every homestead functions as an independent unit, with "villages" being more akin to several such homes clustered together due to families finding strength in numbers toward a common goal. Some feuds among those of the Frozen North run deep, but blood is not spilled - survival surpasses petty grudges. Even when a man hates his neighbor, he knows that he will not survive the winter without another spotter in his hunting party.

These buildings consist largely of sod houses or stone huts built to shield the inhabitants against the harsh winds; these are built around pits dug in the ground, as the people rely on the warmth of the earth itself to insulate them from the freezing cold. As there is nothing that grows in the Wastes, its inhabitants dine almost solely on meat - primarily that of fish, seals, and walruses, which can be found along the shores - and milk from the hardy sheep they raise. As resources are so scarce, the people must utilize every part of their kills, using hides and furs for clothing and bones and ivory to make tools. The only other source of goods they receive comes from trading furs, sealskins, and whale oil to the tribes to the south. Luckily, there is enough demand for such things to sustain their settlements. The most prized possession in the treeless Wastes is a longboat, which allows those who dwell there to venture forth to other islands and settlements for trade, or for raiding. Some tribes have a boat that they have bartered for; others have taken their ships by force. The raiders of the Frozen North are some of the most feared in all the Tennurhaf, for when their lives depend on the success of their raids, they will fight like demons to secure them.

Settlement in the Frozen North, as rudimentary as it is, is still limited to only a few small swathes of the southern coast. The interior of the Wastes are far too inhospitable, and remain uncharted by mortal men. Still, they must hold plenty of secrets waiting to be discovered. Some hunters have reported seeing gigantic white bears, big enough to tear a man in half with a single swipe of their paws, out in the glaciers. Other legends tell of stranger things yet - of castles of frost giants, of slumbering dragons, of pits in the earth that lead straight to Hell. And who knows what may be buried beneath the ice?

Friday Encounter: Thieves' Holmgang

This encounter is based on a real series of crimes noted in Viking age Iceland, offering a look into the fun that can be had in confronting your players with how people in history viewed and interacted with the world. It was written to be used in the North of the Lunar Lands, but with some tweaking, it can fit any setting where a culture of dueling exists. It is best suited to a road or settlement.

Background

The Northmen take great pride in a few things - and some of the most prominent among them are martial prowess and honor. It is no surprise, then, that they would have a formal system of arranging and adjudicating duels. The Northmen practice a particular dueling ritual known as the holmgang. These battles are fought to determine the outcome of a dispute over land, property, or personal honor; traditionally, if one person dies in battle, they forfeit all property to the victor, while if they surrender, they are obligated to pay a sum equal to half their weregild.

As victory in the holmgang means that the winner has the opportunity to advance their wealth and status, it was inevitable that the system would be abused. Some warriors were so skilled they took up challenging wealthy targets to duels they couldn't possibly win, demanding ransoms from their victims without fear of the law (as everything is, technically, within the rules of the practice). One such warrior is Osbjorn Steffanson. A fierce berserker, he is gripped by a primal warrior spirit in the heat of battle and feels no pain, tearing his enemies asunder with the blows of his enchanted axe. He has attracted a fearsome reputation among many in the area, and his name is spoken in whispers. But it is not only for his strength that Osbjorn is so feared - he has a habit of demanding wealth and land in holmgangs, and has accrued a small fortune this way. Few are able to oppose his strong arm.

Three days ago, Osbjorn issued the challenge to Thorstein Armannsson, a farmer who owns a modest but productive homestead not far from here. If Thorstein loses the duel, Osbjorn demands the land and everything in it. Though he has fought his fair share of battles, Thorstein knows he can't possibly compete against Osbjorn - yet it is his livelihood that hangs in the balance. Time is running out, and he is growing desperate...

The Encounter

The party should come across Thorstein either traveling on the road, or at a public establishment such as a town square or tavern. If he sees the PCs are armed and look accomplished, or if their exploits are known in the area, he will seek them out, relaying the situation. If the PCs are unfamiliar with the rules of the holmgang, he will explain the custom. Even if the PCs are familiar, it may be helpful to use this moment to exposit to the players how this tradition works so they have context and can plan accordingly.

Thorstein cannot simply decline the offer for a duel, as doing so would make him a nithingr - a dishonorable outlaw who would be treated with scorn and derision wherever he went, if not outright hunted down. Some duelists are known to pronounce curses upon their opponents if they fail to show up, and Thorstein doesn't want to take a chance here. He had no choice but to agree to meet Osbjorn at the crossroads at the stroke of noon, laying his farm on the line.

Hoping that the PCs might stand a better chance against Osbjorn than he will, Thorstein begs the greatest warrior of the party to fight in his stead. If they agree, he will be thankful and offer to buy the party a round of mead as a show of his gratitude - but of course, it is no time for celebration now.

Once the chosen PC is ready, Thorstein will lead them to the crossroads where Osbjorn has challenged him. There, Osbjorn - a hulking, thick-bearded man in a bearskin cloak, clutching a wicked-looking axe engraved with runes - stands upon an ox hide spread out on the ground. No matter how imposing the chosen PC might seem, he remains cocky and mocks them before the battle, promising no mercy unless they beg for it.

According to the rules of the holmgang, the combatants may not leave a circumscribed area three feet from the ox hide. The ox hide is ten feet across on each side, so the arena is 13 feet on each side from the center of the hide. If anyone sets foot outside this zone, they are deemed to forfeit the duel. Osbjorn offers his opponent no more than three wooden shields (to have replacements if one breaks - you may want to use your favorite house rule for shield damage, like this one, if you want to take advantage of this), but any other gear they wish to use is to be provided by them.

Osbjorn has the stats of a berserker, with one exception - he has a magical axe that always tends to strike true (it scores a critical hit on an unmodified roll of 19 or 20). He will remain cocky as long as he holds the upper hand, but if he drops to half HP, he will start flying into a manic rage - he will make attacks whenever possible, and uses the reckless feature at the beginning of each turn (ie. he gains Advantage on all attack rolls, but all attack rolls made against him have Advantage).

Osbjorn will accept his opponent's surrender at any time, but doing so forfeits Thorstein's right to his farm. If they do not surrender, he is fully prepared to kill them! At any point, the PCs may offer surrender to Osbjorn; if they do, he must make a DC 10 Wisdom save. On a failed roll, he submits, while on a success, he keeps fighting. Osbjorn has Advantage on this save if he is at half HP, as he craves blood in the fervor of battle. You may also use your judgment as a DM - obviously, Osbjorn won't surrender if he has taken no damage.

Further Developments

Clever players might realize that their characters can exploit the rules of the holmgang just as Osbjorn has. If they choose to fight him to the death, it is more dangerous, but they also stand to gain legal right to everything he owns, including his magic axe. If Osbjorn dies, the PCs will win his property, which includes 5000 GP's worth of gold and jewels, a potion of supreme healing, a set of gauntlets of ogre power, and his axe (stats of a greataxe, with the aforementioned enchantment). In addition, he is in possession of a few steadings that the PCs can use as bases of operation; his treasure is spread between these locations. The DM should place these on the map as they see fit.

If the chosen PC forces Osbjorn to surrender, the berserker will begrudgingly pay a sum of 250 GP instead. The stories of their triumph over this fearsome foe will surely spread through the land, but Osbjorn will remember this defeat and plan his vengeance, holding a grudge over whoever bested him. Either way, Thorstein will be grateful to have Osbjorn dealt with, and will become a trusted ally of the party, offering them the right to stay with his family whenever they are in the area.

If Osbjorn's opponent falls in battle, he will claim his right to all of their belongings, including any magic items they possess. This, too, would set him up well as a recurring adversary. Now the party not only has a reason to seek revenge, the loss will hit them in their wallet just as much as their hearts. Plus, should they seek another battle with the warrior, they may see their fallen friend's gear being used against them!

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.

The Sea of Teeth

One bold enough to sail far to the north, beyond even the coasts of the Northmen, will look upon the Tennurhaf - a term in the Northern tongues that translates to "the Sea of Teeth." No one knows exactly where the name comes from. Some claim that the many rocky islands in the Tennurhaf are like the teeth of a great beast, while others believe that the name comes from the many-toothed sea monsters that call the place their home. Nevertheless, it is a frightful name, and the locale lives up to the reputation.

Life in the Tennurhaf is a brutal one. The winters are icy cold, and it is so far to the north that the sun
never rises for months on end. The dark waters of the sea are tossed by storms, with chilling winds and heavy rain and snow a constant sight. There are many small islands scattered throughout the sea, ranging from those large enough to be kingdoms in their own right to those that are little more than jagged rocks jutting from the water, with many a ship meeting its end splintered upon the stones. Some are so far north that nothing grows there. And that is not even getting into the beasts of the Tennurhaf - great serpents, grasping krakens, and whales that swallow entire ships whole. On many southern maps, the Tennurhaf is marked "here there be dragons" - and not without good reason.

Yet, men are nothing if not tenacious creatures. Even here, in this most inhospitable of lands, some semblance of civilization reigns. The seas of the Tennurhaf are too unpredictable for large, organized empires or merchant companies to emerge, but there are many clans, fiefs, and petty kingdoms scattered across the islands and the coast. The Northmen have charted routes across the Sea of Teeth and established colonies reaching as far as the great northern wastes, and they rule their lands fiercely. Due to the unpredictable climate and the rocky soil, farming is a tricky business in the Tennurhaf, and much of the wealth that flows through these kingdoms comes in the form of plunder raided from settlements to the south.

Art by ScenesbyColleen

Of all the Northmen, those of the Tennurhaf are most feared, for they have been hardened by their rough homeland and show no mercy. In the Sea of Teeth, it is only the strong who survive, let alone hold power. If there is any consolation for the settled folk of the south, it is that the Northmen are just as wont to turn their axes upon each other - kin-strife and blood feuds have marred the annals of the North for generations upon generations, and these quarrelsome folk war among one another just as often as they attack foreign shores.

Many southerners would never dream of setting foot anywhere near the Tennurhaf. To do so would be tantamount to suicide. There is nothing of value there, and too much hardship to face for the trouble. Yet, to some, that danger is its own reward, and one man's fear is another's opportunity...

Green Downs Hex Map

Another month of the Year of the Gazetteer is behind us, and you know what that means. This is a smaller map than the last few; I missed being able to key one of these in a single afternoon. But there's still plenty of adventure to be found in the Green Downs - or if you'd rather use this for an unusually Amish-flavored session of Under Hill, By Water, be my guest.

Note that, due to halfling settlement patterns, the population of the Green Downs is sparse and decentralized. Every farmland hex (light green) can thus be assumed to contain multiple homesteads even if not detailed in the key.

Click here to enlarge

Each hex equals three miles.

Law in the Green Downs

The Green Downs has little in the way of centralized authority or a code of law. It has no real need for it - the halflings mostly keep to themselves and mind their own business, and the fertile soil and the agrarian livelihoods of most Hinnisch folk means that life is generally sustainable, so individual people have little reason to turn to crime. So too, there is no real governing body to make or enforce laws. While some halfling families may be wealthier than others, any real authority this comes from is mostly in name, and halflings consider it gauche to brag of such things. Generally, legal matters in the Green Downs are an ad hoc affair. If there is truly an issue that needs to be addressed, the community will decide on how to handle it in a community meeting.

The closest thing to a legal system among the Hinnisch people is not in the form of official edicts, but cultural practices. The halflings have held onto their own peculiar traditions through the years, some even being practiced in halfling communities far from the Green Downs - traditions that stem from philosophy, practicality, and folk wisdom, in many cases, but sometimes from more spiritual principles.

One of these beliefs is that a halfling may never take up arms against his neighbor, no matter the circumstances. Most halflings interpret this to mean that a halfling should never cause another halfling harm or inflict injury upon them. To this end, only a few villages in the Green Downs have anything resembling a militia, and those that do are strictly tasked with defending the village from outside threats; halflings will never war among themselves. Most of these are on the frontiers of the region, but in the case of the village of Breetschtaab, which sits in a valley that was once menaced by goblins, the threat has long since abated, and the militia is only kept as a matter of formality. The village has never faced an attack in years, and mostly all the militia does is train in weaponry as a hobby - which has won Breetschtaab many victories at harvest festival archery contests.

This rule also means that halflings do not believe in corporal or capital punishment. In the Hinnisch mindset, to sentence a murderer to execution would carry the same moral burden as the murder itself. Instead, the gravest punishment in Hinnisch society is that of exile. This is a serious sentence indeed, and is not one to be taken lightly. When a halfling is exiled from their community, their family holds a funeral for them even though they are alive, and all in the village are to ignore their presence, treating them as though they were dead. They do not speak to them, nor do business with them, and refer to them in the past tense. To deal with an exile invites bad luck, much as being haunted would.

Art by Campaign Command

This almost always leads to the exile leaving their village and striking it out on their own. In some cases, exiled halflings have been able to find a new life in other villages, and sometimes even settle down in new families there, but word travels quickly at markets, and to be exiled carries a great stigma even outside of one's immediate circle. In other cases, exiles leave the Green Downs entirely, sometimes settling among humans or establishing new steadings of their own. The spread of halflings throughout the known world can be attributed just as much to this practice as it can to the tradition of tolerating the youth's tendency to wander.

Halfling Magic

Strictly speaking, the halflings of the Green Downs are not ones for magic. Mastery of the mystic arts involves hours upon hours of careful study, hours that most halflings would rather devote to honest farm work. So too, in such an insular society, halflings are reluctant to entertain the scholarly traditions of magic from outside the Green Downs.

However, it cannot be denied that the Hinnisch folk often encounter situations in which magic is useful. They too suffer ailments and need protection against robbers and the elements. They too lose tools that no one can find, and they too may be bedeviled by spirits. To that extent, the halflings have their own traditions of spellcraft that exist within their own communities.

In the Hinnisch tongue, magic is known as braucherei, and a practitioner is dubbed a braucher (pl. braucheri). There are only a select few families in the Green Downs that practice braucherei; it is a gift passed down through generations, and most halflings do not bother to study the mystic arts unless they are born into them. The braucher families keep meticulous records of their traditions, sharing their knowledge with their children from a young age to carry on their craft. All braucherei consider themselves members of the same extended family, united by craft if not by blood; as such, they do not intermarry, though any child with at least one braucher parent may have the gift. When a child is born to a braucher family, all braucheri in the nearby villages gather to celebrate the occasion. At these meetings, a ritual is performed to confirm whether or not the child has an innate skill for magic - if they do, they are taught the craft, trained from childhood to carry on the family business.

Braucheri deal strictly in white magic - that is, protective and healing spells. They consider offensive magic and curses - black magic - to be dangerous and unholy, and fear it. In game terms, they are best represented by clerics of the Life or Peace domains. Halfling magic, like the traditions of the cunning folk in human lands, is influenced heavily by religion, and incorporates prayers and the invocation of deities and saints, but braucheri are not ordained members of the Pantheonist cults.

The braucheri collect their wisdom in grimoires - which, in halfling tradition, do not consist solely of spells; a typical Hinnisch grimoire will also contain prayers, mundane remedies, and even recipes for food and drink. These tomes can be considered a collection of all information the braucheri consider useful to have at hand, which, for halflings, includes the more victual pleasures of life. The most prized grimoires of all, however, are the missives of heaven - texts held to have been miraculously delivered from the gods themselves. These texts are magic in and of themselves, and protect anyone who carries them from harm, be it from demonic powers or the hands of men. However, in order for such protection to apply, the user must abide by a code of conduct outlined in the text. Failure to live by its tenets means the spells will be undone.

Braucheri enjoy a position of status within halfling communities, revered as healers, teachers, and religious leaders. Many villagers will turn to them for help that only they can work. However, though it is unusual for halflings in general to stray far from their burrows, and braucheri specifically even more so, there are some that may be found plying their craft in other lands, or along the roads.

Art by Caterina Capogrossi

Background: Braucher

Prerequisites: Must be a halfling. Optionally, a DM may allow PCs of other races to take this background if they have, for whatever reason, been raised among halflings, but this is rare.

Suggested Names: Pennsylvania Dutch names, or classically Tolkienian hobbit names.

Skill Proficiencies: Arcana, Religion

Tool Proficiencies: Herbalism kits, one set of artisan's tools or musical instrument of your choice.

Languages: Hinnisch, Celestial.

Equipment: A healer's kit or a herbalism kit, a grimoire, a set of common clothes, and a pouch containing 50 GP.

Feature: Hex Sign. You have been taught several apotropaic sigils, and can imbue them with power; halflings use these to decorate their barns and homes, and they are often of fine craftsmanship, featuring bold colors and artistic designs. You may spend an hour to paint a sign on a building no larger than a barn; all creatures within that building are under the effects of a protection from evil and good spell. This effect ends if the sign is damaged or the wall it is on is destroyed.

Wayward Halfling Youth

Art by Pajazet

As a rule, the halflings of the Green Downs are highly community-minded. They shun overt expressions of individuality as being arrogant and pretentious, preferring to focus on the practical matters of life. However, it is natural for the youth of any society to push back against its norms and values, and halflings are no exception.

In Hinnisch society, it is to be expected that young people will try to act out and rebel against society. The halflings have known this paradigm for generations. As such, they do not push back against it - they know it is natural for their sons and daughters to seek out independence when they reach a certain age, and as long as they are not disturbing the peace, they are allowed to do as they please. The wisdom of the elders holds that the wayward youth will return to the ways of their parents sooner or later; until then, it is best to allow them to live as they please. Fighting against their youthful whims will only encourage them more.

When life in the Green Downs is so heavily focused on the hearth and the fields, and it is considered gauche to be too concerned with matters outside of the home, teenage rebellion, in halflings, tends to take the form of leaving their burrows in search of more adventurous activities than they are used to. They may wish to see more of the world, and to deal with the ways of big folk, integrating into society more than is common in the isolated Green Downs. This period of wanderlust is so common and accepted, it has become something of an unwritten rite of passage in halfling society - in some communities, to leave the home and live among big people is a ritual anticipated by everyone in the village at the cusp of their adulthood.

Most commonly, halflings on this excursion will find work in a given trade in human lands, plying the skills they are familiar with from their time on the farm. They may serve as farmhands or shepherds, or they may ply their trade at woodcraft (the Hinnisch are known as great carpenters). However, it is not unheard of for them to find work in less honest trades. Their quick wits and their ability to fit into tight spaces are valued skills for burglars, and many a halfling has found lucrative work among thieves' guilds and roving bands of treasure hunters.

Typically, a halfling's excursion from their society lasts a few years, and ends with them returning to the Green Downs to marry and establish a burrow of their own (men also grow out their sideburns at this time, as a visual marker of their adulthood). The majority of halflings quickly realize that the farming life is a dependable one, and far less risky than one on the road. However, some of them do choose to stay in human society, which has led to many of them integrating into the settlements of big folk. In this way, they have spread far and wide beyond their homeland in the Green Downs, and can be found just about anywhere in the known world.