Saga of the Ortegids: The Tower of Shampan

When I started blogging about The Saga of the Ortegids last year, I intended to conclude the project with a thesis statement of sorts. I was inspired by how some of my earliest dungeons came from me taking the maps from my Prima strategy guide for Dragon Warrior III and adapting them to D&D, and I wanted to do the same thing from the perspective of an older and more experienced dungeon master, creating a full-fledged dungeon based on one of the ones from the game.

I intended to write this post a lot earlier, but a lot has gotten in my way between then and now. But now that I've had the time to write up the dungeon and run it as a one-shot to simultaneously playtest it and introduce some new players to the game, I think it's finally ready to share with the world. Consider this a culmination of my efforts for Saga, and as my own way of revisiting my roots.

While written for The Saga of the Ortegids, this dungeon can be used in any setting - feel free to change names and details as necessary. I've referenced the very same dungeon in my Lunar Lands setting, which can be found in hex 031.026 of the Golnir hex map, so it would be appropriate to use there as well.

Lastly, my playtest was intended to test both the dungeon itself and my previously-proposed concept of modules in the form of DM screens containing all relevant DM-facing information on the inner surface. Thus, I designed the dungeon to fit on three 8.5x11'' sheets. You can get it in PDF form here. The first two pages are for the player-facing side of the screen; the second page should be printed twice to be placed on either side flap.

Friday Encounter: Burn the Goat!

A bit of a belated Christmas special for this week's Friday Encounter. It's designed to have the PCs come upon it while traveling on the road, but with some tweaks could work for a settlement they're stationed in already. The encounter is themed around the real-life phenomena of the Gavle goat, and thus is well-suited to coincide with Midwinter or another winter holiday, but it would work just as well as a local festival on any date.

Burn the Goat!

Background

Centuries ago, the town of Gevalia was terrorized by a ferocious demon by the name of Degdrolan, who devoured the livestock, blighted the crops, and set fire to the peoples' homes for no reason but spite for mortals. No weapon forged could harm the demon, so the people were forced to make a grim bargain in order to spare themselvs his ire. Each year, before the coming of Midwinter, the people would sacrifice a goat in the town square so that the demon's bloodlust would be sated, and they would know another year of peace.

Many years have passed since that date, and the story has been forgotten by all but the most learned of sages. But the tradition continued. At first, it was customary for the people to spill the blood of a live goat in the town square - and this continued for generations after the people forgot why they were doing such a thing. But in more recent years, a new tradition grew in its place. Inspired by the sacrifices, the town's two most prominent guilds - the Brotherhood of Merry Merchants and the League of Free Brewers - would each compete to build a massive goat sculpture from straw, striving to outdo the other in size and majesty.

Every year since this tradition began, however, one or both of the goats has been burned down before Midwinter - whether from strife between the rival guilds, mere accident, or the mischief of wayward youths. By sheer coincidence, this practice has successfully kept Degdrolan at bay even long after the people forgot about him - after all, the contract between him and the town never stated that a real goat would have to be sacrificed. However, it is precisely because of how the story has fallen into obscurity that the officials are striving to stamp out the tradition of goat-burning. And if they're successful, they may be in for a rude awakening...

The Encounter

The PCs should arrive in Gevalia around two or three days before Midwinter. If you're using this encounter in a town they're already in, you can foreshadow things by having the goats be built over time in the background, or just have them be erected overnight. In any case, anyone going to the town square will undoubtedly notice the two towering straw goats built there - the Merry Merchants' goat is 40 feet tall, while the Free Brewers' is 35 feet.

Asking around, they'll hear about how the two guilds have competed to build a bigger goat every year for Midwinter, but no one really knows why. They're traded wins from year to year, and it's always been a matter of fierce competition between them. For as long as anyone can remember, however, both goats have never survived until midnight on Midwinter's Eve; someone always burns one or both of them down. The guilds are on especially high alert this year, and they have both offered substantial sums to the town guard to stand in defense of their goat. The guards feel it's a tiresome job, and would rather be at home enjoying the festivities with their families - some even feel that there's no point in protecting the goats because burning them down has become a tradition of its own at this point.

The goats are a point of pride for their respective guilds, and the PCs will likely hear of the heated rivalry between the two of them. If they pursue this lead, they may encounter Sidsel Raskova, the guildmistress of the Merry Merchants, and Jorstein Goransson, the guildmaster of the Free Brewers. Sidsel, true to her guild's name, is a jovial woman who loves the Midwinter festivities, while Jorstein is a more dour and serious man who wants only to ensure that his guild will succeed - but both of them show no affection for their rivals, and both suspect that they are plotting to burn down each other's goat. 

They may also run into Askold, the local delinquent - a youth of about 17 who leads a gang of miscreants who enjoy commiting acts of petty theft and vandalism. The gang openly claims to have burned down several goats in the past years, and considers it a badge of honor.

Lastly, there is Erland Kravitz, the burgomaster. He was elected to his position last year under a promise to clean up the town's image by cracking down on crime, and he in particular has no love for the tradition of goat-burning, believing it a disgrace to Voltan that the people expect arson to happen every year. He has no interest in playing to politics between the guilds; he only wants to make sure no goat gets burned this year, under any circumstances.

None of these characters know anything about the town's deal with Degdrolan - the people of Gevalia have long buried this, not wanting to admit to dealing with demons even if it was for their own safety. However, there is a convent devoted to Mimir, the god of knowledge, in the town, which boasts an extensive library (and also is open to shelter any travelers who can't afford a stay at the inn). Researching the history of Gevalia or its traditions at this library will reveal a record of the story in an old dusty tome.

Further Developments

Depending on how the PCs go about this encounter, they may ally with either of the guilds, Askold's gang, or the burgomaster, or they may act independently. Both of the guilds want to burn down the other's goat, but they also both know that the other guild is sponsoring the guards to watch their own. However, they realize they may be able to pin the blame on strange adventurers and escape scrutiny. If the party gets in the good graces of either guild, they will offer to pay the PCs with 50 GP each, plus one uncommon magic item for the group (choose something suited to the party, or to a character who could use one) if they are successful at burning down the other guild's goat. They will also help them escape town should they run afoul of the law.

Askold and his gang don't care about the guilds - all they want is to amuse themselves and cause mischief. At an hour before midnight, Askold intends to hide in an alleyway facing the town square with a bow and flaming arrows, which he will then fire into the goats. If the PCs agree to help him distract the guards (and not tell anyone's parents), he promises to make them official members of his gang. While the youths are a collection of orphans and unsupervised delinquents with no experience in combat to assist the party with and will not leave the town, they have picked up a good deal of rumors and know of routes to treasure or other points of interest in the area that they will only share with fellow gang members. Askold will also offer the PCs free access to his cache of stolen mead bottles, hidden under a cornerstone at the old barn on the outskirts of town the gang uses as a clubhouse.

Finally, if the PCs side with Erland and are successful at preventing any goats from being burned, the burgomaster will thank them for their aid and invite them to an official banquet, where they will each receive 100 GP and a magic item suited to their class and character, as well as having the opportunity to meet several important figures in the town and make allies of them. However, in the middle of the banquet, Degdrolan will manifest in the town square, angry that he did not receive his tribute for the year. Degdrolan has the stats of a glabrezu; a hulking demon with a shaggy coat and a face like a horned grinning skull. Just as he did years ago, he will attempt to lay waste to the town and devour anything in his path if not stopped.

Hexmas: The Gingerbread Village

It's been a while since I posted anything on this blog. Part of that is because I haven't had the time or energy to write much, and part of it is that I've run through the material I had prepared for ongoing projects like The Saga of the Ortegids and don't have anything to fill the spots I would ordinarily be using for that content. Regrettably, this means that I've been behind the curve on the blogosphere, and that means it was only just now that I discovered Hexmas, Prismatic Wasteland's challenge to make a community-sourced Christmas-themed hexcrawl. That means that I'm jumping in far later than I would like to be doing so, and up against the deadline

But I like the idea, dammit, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let an opportunity like this pass me by. A couple years ago, I made a post about how there is a glaring lack of Christmas-themed adventures inspired by E.T.A. Hoffman's The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, and this gives me the perfect excuse. I was going to do a different post today, but that can wait.

The Gingerbread Village

North: House of the Kringles

Northwest: The Grumpus

West: Candy Cane Forest

Nestled at the foot of a snow-crested mountain, amidst a grove of pines, there lies a village of gingerbread. The modest settlement is ringed by a fence of candy canes (harvested from the forest to the west), and the buildings are made from gingerbread, decorated in peppermints and frosting. The people of this village, too, belong to a race of gingerbread folk, small in stature and similar in form to the domiciles they inhabit. The gingerbread folk are usually quiet and content to bide their time peacefully, but recently, their tranquility has been threatened by the coming of a threat from the mountain - the man-eating giant Sweettooth.

The village is a simple and self-sufficient one. Most buildings are modest family homes, but there is an inn, the Royal Icing, that will shelter travelers and offer them a stiff pint of the local specialty, ginger ale. Besides the inn, the most conspicuous building in town is the house of the mayor, Mr. Adrak, a luxurious gingerbread mansion that sits amidst a garden of candy canes and gumdrops the size of trees and bushes.

Or, at least, it was, before Sweettooth last struck about two days ago, smashing the roof under a giant rock and carrying away a few of Adrak's servants. Now, the roof of the mansion is caved in, and gingerbread men are working around the clock to clear away debris and stick the roof back together using icing. The mansion has been vacated since the attack, and Adrak is now staying at the inn while he waits for his home to be repaired. His demeanor has grown bitter since the attack (even if his flavor hasn't), and he demands that something must be done about Sweettooth before any other gingerbread men are lost!

If the PCs enquire about Sweettooth, the townspeople will direct them toward the house of the town doctor, Dr. Kolobok. The doctor is currently tending to Adrak's butler, Sir Peppercake, a well-mannered gingerbread man with a handlebar mustache made of icing who was in the mansion when Sweettooth attacked but was lucky enough to escape with his life. Alas, Dr. Kolobok only knows how to treat gingerbread folk, and has no understanding of the physiology of flesh-and-blood people. He will not be able to heal or cure any ailments the PCs face, but will find them quite interesting.

If the party seeks an audience with Sir Peppercake, he will describe his terrifying encounter with the giant, who grabbed three gingerbread men and a gingerbread maid and mercilessly devoured them in front of him! Peppercake only managed to escape the attack because one of his legs broke off in Sweettooth's grasp. The doctor managed to bake him a new leg and attached it with icing, but he's been resting it before he returns to work. Despite his master's fiery temper, Peppercake doesn't have any ill will toward Sweettooth, and believes the giant is only motivated by hunger - he just wishes he would stay away from the town in his pursuit of satiating himself.

The gingerbread folk have the stats of halflings. However, since they're made of gingerbread, they're more fragile than if they were made of flesh. Attacks made against them score critical hits on a roll to hit of 15-20.

The gingerbread folk know that Sweettooth lives in a cave at the top of the mountain. If the PCs make the ascent, they will discover that a ravenous giant indeed lives there. Sweettooth has the stats of an hill giant, and has an insatiable hunger for candy and sweets. If the PCs are openly carrying any sweets, or have any gingerbread folk or similar creatures accompanying them, he will attack on sight, trying to grab the sweets and run off with his bounty. He will not attack any creatures who do not have sweets on their person, and finds them boring and uninteresting. If he is denied sweets, he cries and pounds the walls, demanding the party share their treats with him.

What the gingerbread folk do not realize is that Sweettooth is not a full-grown giant! He is, in fact, the bratty son of a family of frost giants who dwell atop the mountain. His parents, Longtooth and Sharptooth, are disinterested in disciplining the boy and pay him no heed, focused only on decorating their cave for the coming winter festivities. They will, however, come to Sweettooth's aid if the child is harmed, throwing rocks at any intruders to try and drive them away from the cave.

If Sweettooth is dealt with, the gingerbread folk will be grateful and offer the PCs a free stay at the Royal Icing whenever they are in town, with plenty of ginger ale on the house. They will also offer the forge the PCs weapons of their choice made of candy glass - on a critical hit, the weapons explode and deal an additional die of damage to all creatures in 15 feet of the target due to the showering of candy shrapnel. If this happens, the weapons are destroyed, but the gingerbread folk will be happy to make replacements. It takes 1d4 days for a candy glass weapon to be completed.

Merry Hexmas!

Friday Encounter: Ogres' Ferry

Following up with the theme I've been on for the last few Friday Encounter posts, here's a simple puzzle I used in a recent session. I used it as a room in a dungeon, but it could easily be used in the wilderness as well.

The PCs should come across a river that is flowing too quickly to easily cross on foot, and no bridge or ford in sight. A small rowboat, big enough to hold two people at a time, is sitting on the shore closest to the PCs. Also on the shore with the PCs are a number of ogres equal to that of the party members, who are standing around grumbling and arguing with one another. At the sight of the PCs, they accost them, insisting they need their help to ferry them across the river. They note that they have been stranded here a while, and are growing hungry.

This encounter is based on an old logic puzzle known as the "missionaries and cannibals problem" or "jealous husbands problem" - to boil it down to the essentials, you have to get two parties of equal size across the river, making sure that Party A does not outnumber Party B on either bank of the river at any time.

In this case, the party must transport each ogre to the other side of the river. The boat can hold two people at any time - they can be ogres, PCs, or any combination of the two. However, the ogres are hungry enough to make a bid for the PCs if they think they can get away with it. The ogres are cowards, and they won't try to attack the PCs if there are more PCs present on their bank than ogres. But as soon as they outnumber the PCs on a given bank, they'll attack, ganging up on the PCs so they can kill and eat them.

To make sure this information is available to the players, you may wish to have one of the ogres grab for the outnumbered PC(s) as soon as the boat begins to leave the shore, so that whoever is rowing has a chance to intervene - if the ogres see them change course, they'll immediately drop what they're doing. In any case, the party will either have to take multiple trips to get all ogres and PCs on the other side of the river, or prepare for a fight.

According to Wikipedia, the missionaries and cannibals problem can be solved in a minimum of 11 moves if there are three missionaries and three cannibals (or husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, masters and valets...you get the idea). In order to add urgency to this encounter, you could have the tides slightly rise after each move - the PCs must solve the puzzle in, say, 20-30 moves (to give them leeway to make mistakes) before the tides become too high to safely cross the river. If this happens, they might be swept away, potentially requiring them to make some rolls to avoid being tossed overboard, or perhaps they'd be washed away to a new location. In my campaign, I had three party members and three ogres. If you have a larger party, you'll need to increase the number of alloted moves.

In my campaign, one of the ogres had a broken arm, preventing him from rowing the boat. This would explain why the ogres couldn't row themselves across, and forces the PCs to man the boat at least once. However, my players used this to surmise that the ogre with the broken arm wouldn't be able to fight them either, and that he wouldn't count toward the number of ogres outnumbering the party since he couldn't pose a threat. This made the puzzle significantly easier, but it was logic I couldn't argue with, so I let them have it.

Since I was using this puzzle in a dungeon, I had a door open once all the PCs and ogres were on the same side of the river. You could have this be operated by a pressure plate that will only open under the combined weight of all PCs and ogres standing on it (note that creatures would not need to be alive in order to meet the required weight). Or you could have a passage or treasure located on a higher ledge that the PCs can only access by climbing on the ogres' shoulders.

Friday Encounter: Interrupted Summoning

This encounter could be used in a dungeon, at a site in the wilderness, or maybe even in a town - preferably in some run-down house tucked away in a dark alley out of sight. You may want to plant rumors in the surrounding areas of strange robed figures gathering and chanting heard in the vicinity if you wish to lead your players to investigate.

Background

The Brotherhood of the Scarlet Palm is a cult of demon worshipers, seeking to contact Hell in order to negotiate with demons for earthly power. It was not long ago that they first began meeting in secret under the leadership of a disgruntled merchant named Vladislav Mikhailov, who, upon facing numerous failed business ventures, decided to summon a demon in order to guarantee him financial success. However, Vladislav's resources were limited, and he did not have access to arcane knowledge, having to cobble together his notes from a few scattered texts. This resulted in his cult performing a few botched and ineffective rituals, but they remained desperate enough to keep trying.

Through some miracle, Vladislav finally managed to contact a demon - a pit fiend by the name of Ag'draluun the Tormentor - a few days ago, and set to summon him into the mortal plane to discuss a deal. He set a protective circle over the ground, burned some candles, and read some incantations. Through this, Vladislav was able to open a portal to Ag'draluun's domain - but the ritual did not work according to plan. The cultists were able to form a portal, but not one big enough to accomodate such a hulking creature. Now, Ag'draluun is trapped partway in and partway out of the portal - and the cultists are in the middle of trying to get it to open the rest of the way.

The Encounter

The party should come upon Vladislav's circle to find three cultists standing at the points of a triangle inscribed on the ground, surrounded by a rim of candles that burn with violet flames. They have their heads bowed low and are chanting. At the center of the circle, suspended in the air, is what appears to be a rift in reality. It appears like a hole in a tapestry opening into an orange glow, but floats in midair above the ground. The portal gives off an intense heat, and flames can be seen flickering around it. Every so often, a huge clawed arm, covered in black scales like cracked magma, emerges from the portal, flailing around, and muffled cursing in Infernal can be heard.

One square equals five feet.

There are five other cultists gathered before the circle, watching; Vladislav stands behind them, flipping through a book at a hurried pace. It should be obvious that he is the leader; for instance, he may wear differently colored robes than his underlings.

Additionally, there is a circle of pillars gathered around the circle. These have the Concealing, Full Cover, and Impassible terrain tags - they provide full cover, cannot be passed through, and creatures hiding behind them have Advantage on Stealth checks.

Enter Action Time. The cultists will be too busy with trying to correct the ritual to monitor their surroundings, giving the PCs the opportunity to sneak up on them; they will thus not attack if they are not alerted to the presence of intruders. However, if the PCs do draw the cult's attention, Vladislav will order the cultists to attack.

Vladislav has the stats of a cult fanatic; his underlings have the stats of cultists. He will start by sending the five cultists staying back by him to ward off the PCs while he tries to lead the ritual. The three cultists gathered around the circle will remain where they are, continuing to chant. If two or more cultists are killed or incapacitated, or if Vladislav is directly accosted, he will enter the fight.

As long as the portal remains stuck in its partially open state, the three cultists at the circle will spend each of their turns chanting. When this happens, roll a d20 - on a roll of 11 or higher, the cultist successfully performs a chant. At the end of a round, if any cultist succeeded on the chant that round, the portal flickers and begins to widen. If no cultists succeeded, the portal remains in its current state.

Ag'draluun is trapped on the other side of the portal, unable to pass through. He cannot move across it (it's too small), and his Fear Aura will not affect creatures on the other side of the portal; however, he will reach through and make an attack with his claws at any PCs within five feet of the portal. If the portal is widened three times, it opens fully, summoning Ag'draluun into the world. He is quite angry that the summoning was performed so poorly, and is just as wont to attack the cultists as he is the PCs - but he won't hesitate to attack them either, if they're in range!

If all three cultists around the circle are killed or incapacitated, the portal winks out of existence. Ag'draluun's arm will be caught outside of it if this happens, causing it to be cut off; it falls to the ground before burning away into cinders. Alternatively, you could make it persist so that the PCs could retrieve it - the arm of a demon would surely have interesting alchemical properties.

Further Developments

If Vladislav is alive when the portal closes, he will flee the scene. He may become a recurring antagonist to the party - but perhaps a less than effectual one, unless he discovers more useful arcane knowledge. Either way, he will leave behind his books, which contain notes on a few rituals cobbled together from different sources. Some of this information could prove useful if the PCs need to research a ritual. Also left near the portal are his bags, containing 150 GP in gold and jewels and a scroll of Tasha's Hideous Laughter.

Ag'draluun might make for a recurring antagonist as well. Even if the portal was closed on him, he now knows the party, and will blame them for the loss of his arm, seeking a portal or a more competent summoner to re-enter reality so that he can enact his vengeance.

And if the portal was opened and the party somehow survived...well, they now have released an incredibly powerful demon upon the world, and can expect to deal with the consequences!

Friday Encounter: Elvish Negotiations

Art by Zara Alfonso

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

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

Elvish Negotiations

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friday Encounter: Drinking with Satyrs

This encounter could be used on the road, in the wilderness, or in a dungeon. If encountered outdoors, it works best at night. If the PCs come upon it weary after a day of traveling, they may be forced to weigh their options more.

The party should come across a campfire where three men are sitting around drinking heartily from wineskins, laughing and singing all the while. All of them are wearing hats and boots. As soon as they catch sight of the party, they introduce themselves as a group of merry wayfarers partaking in the joys of a life unburdened by oversight and authority, and invite the PCs to join them, citing that if they too choose to live life for themselves, they should be happy to celebrate likewise.

However, not all is as it seems. The three men are really satyrs in disguise, using their hats to cover their horns and boots to cover their hooves. Using Divine Sense or a similar ability will detect fey creatures at the campfire, and a successful DC 10 Perception check will note that they seem to be staggering around as though they aren't used to wearing shoes - though that could just from them being drunk. A result of 20 or more will also note that one of them seems to bleat like a goat when he laughs.

The three men do genuinely just want to enjoy living life on their own terms, and believe that all should follow their philosophy. They have no other ulterior motives besides inviting the PCs for a bit of fun, and they've disguised themselves as humans mainly because they thought it would be amusing. However, what they don't realize is that mortals aren't exactly equipped to handle the fey wine they drink.

If the PCs reject the satyrs' offer, their leader will be disappointed and attempt to persuade them to stay, but they will not force them or inconvenience them in any way if they don't comply. If they choose to join in, the satyrs will happily invite them to their campfire and pass them all wineskins. They will sing long into the night and rope the PCs into games - you could use the drinking contest mechanics I came up with for this previous encounter, or just roleplay everything. However, what's important is that the PCs should black out by the end of the night. No one can hope to outdrink a satyr, and the wine of the fair folk is a potent one indeed.

When the PCs come to, they should be in an unfamiliar location, with a pounding headache and no recollection of anything that happened for the rest of the night. The satyrs will not harm them in any way, as doing that would be a violation of hospitality, and all their belongings will be where they left them - they just know that something wild happened last night. The idea is to get the PCs lost in a creative way, and have them try to find their way back to where they were when they have no recollection of the route. You could also leave the PCs with clues to the sorts of insane antics they got into while drunk, which may provide hooks for future adventures (think The Hangover, or that one quest from Skyrim), but be advised that not all players enjoy having their characters do things outside of their control, so it's best to know your table for this part.

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...

Friday Encounter: The Guardian Beast

A lot of my Friday Encounters center around a couple of themes I find ripe for exploiting when it comes to game material - subverting PC expectations, or confronting the party with moral dilemmas. Well, I hope people aren't getting tired of that, because this one has both.

This encounter is best used while the PCs are on the road, and come to a small isolated village. Ideally, you should drop rumors in the leadup to the encounter - for instance, in nearby settlements, the party may hear that people have sighted a foreboding shape flying over the horizon, and it seems to be coming closer and closer. They should also hear that number of farms and homesteads further down the road have been laid to waste, the buildings shattered and the people and animals vanished, with only bones left behind. Several such rumors describe the ground being scarred into wasteland, as though the fields were burned with acid, though none have seen such a desolation in person.

Eventually, this trail should take them to a town where the people know of a mountain nearby, where a chimera dwells in its cave. The villagers have known of this creature for years, and some even know the trail to its lair, but they note that it has never caused any trouble for the town before. However, if nearby settlements are being devastated, many suspect the chimera is responsible - and when it lives so close by, there is a growing sense of paranoia that their village may be next. A few have declared that the chimera must be slain before it takes another life, but no one is brave enough to make such a journey. However, if the PCs seem capable, one of the local guides will be happy to show them the way.

The chimera dwells at the summit of a mountain near the town. You may choose to add other encounters or hazards along the way as you wish, or even expand the lair into a full-fledged dungeon. However, the chimera should be found in a cavern strewn with bones. None of them appear to be human bones, and the bones of several dangerous monsters can be found among them. Nevertheless, if the PCs approach the chimera with weapons drawn, it will not hesitate to attack.

If the chimera is slain, the townspeople will celebrate, rewarding the PCs with a grand feast and offering 90 GP per party member in return; they will also find 4000 GP's worth of gold and jewels, a potion of fire giant strength, and a wand of secrets in the chimera's lair. However, about a week afterward (this can be adjusted if the PCs seem intent on moving on quickly), they will discover the terrible truth.

The chimera wasn't behind the attacks at all - rather, they were the work of a black dragon starting to expand its range into the nearby area. The chimera, in fact, had established itself as the protector of the village, and had fended off attacks by monsters for many years. Without it, though, the village is defenseless - and it will be the dragon's next target! The next time the PCs come to the village, they will find it a smoldering ruin, and the dragon may still be around. If the PCs don't have any desire to revisit the village, they can discover the consequences of their actions when an NPC, perhaps a survivor from the town, relays the news and warns of the dragon's threat.

I've tried to leave a few clues in this encounter, but if you don't think your players will pick up on them, you might allow PCs to research local lore, in which case they may discover that a folk hero from the town decided to spare a chimera's life years ago, and the chimera decided to defend the village ever since. This should be a relatively obscure legend, to explain why the people fear the chimera. If the PCs don't kill the chimera, the dragon will still attack, but this time the two beasts will do battle - and the party may well be caught in the middle of it!

Friday Encounter: The Leprechaun's Drinking Contest

This encounter could work either in the wilderness or in a dungeon - really, anything far enough removed from civilization.

The PCs come across a little man with pointy ears, all dressed in green, seated on a rock with a large pot of gold beside him. He introduces himself as Fachanan, a leprechaun, and welcomes the PCs to his domain. If asked about the pot of gold, he will explain that, like all leprechauns, he watches over great riches and will not allow mortals to take them for themselves. If he is accosted, he attempts to dazzle the party with a hypnotic pattern spell before turning invisible and scurrying off; the pot of gold will also vanish.

However, he will offer to part with the gold as long as he is defeated in a fair competition - and he proposes a drinking contest, producing a large flagon of ale almost too big for him to have any right to carry. He will face each member of the party, one by one, and if any are left standing by the end of it, then the treasure is theirs.

Such a task might seem simple, but it is no easy task to outdrink a leprechaun. If a PC wishes to engage in Fachanan's contest, they must take turns drinking from the flagon with Fachanan, and whoever surrenders or passes out is eliminated from the competition. Make a note of the PC's Constitution score (the entire score, not the modifier). Every time they take a drink, they lose 1d8 points from their Constitution score until the next long rest. When their Constitution score drops by half, they take 2d8 damage from each drink and have Disadvantage on all attack rolls and skill checks. For the purposes of the contest, Fachanan's Constitution is 20, and he heals 1d4-1 points every round. If he manages to beat one of the PCs in the contest, his Constitution returns to its maximum value.

The flagon is bottomless and will not run out, and Fachanan will not allow anyone to interfere in the contest. If they do, he will accuse them of cheating and curses the entire party with ill fortune; they have Disadvantage on all rolls until the next long rest. He then disappears, taking the pot of gold with him.

If Fachanan is beaten in the contest, he will give the PCs his pot of gold. The pot contains a total of 6000 GP in gold and jewels, but it weighs 10 pounds and is cumbersome to carry, so getting it to a place where the treasure may be spent may be a challenge in and of itself. If all the PCs end up passing out, they may well awake to find they have gotten into all sorts of escapades while drunk on fey liquor...

Friday Encounter: The Island Fish

Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas

Here's an encounter to bring one of my favorite tropes in folklore and mythology to the table. It should be used while the PCs are traveling by boat, preferably on a voyage through a relatively uncharted body of water.

While traveling the open sea, the PCs come across a small island that is not marked on any of their maps. The ship's crew has grown tired over the long journey, and they petition the captain to stop and rest here, perhaps foraging for food to replenish their meager rations. If the ship's captain is an NPC, they agree to moor the ship here; if they are a PC, that decision is up to the player(s).

If the ship docks, the crew wishes to spend the night on the island, and they suggest the PCs explore before sun sets. PCs exploring the island will find that it is mostly flat and rocky, covered in sparse shrubs and grass, with a few short trees here and there. There are no land animals native to the island, but a few seagulls can be found, and there are some crabs on the shore. The island is 160 feet long and 100 feet wide, with a circle of rocks and trees at the center of the island forming a natural campsite, 80 feet from the ship. Keep track of how far the party ventures into the island - it will become important later.

At nightfall, the ship's crew will make camp at whatever suitable spot the party found, and make a fire from some driftwood and fallen branches to cook some birds and fish they were able to catch. However, this is where the island reveals its secret. The "island" is in fact a gigantic fish that has laid dormant here for years, and over the ages, enough soil has built up on its back to form solid ground. However, when a fire is lit, the fish will wake up, and seek to retreat into the water - with everyone still on it! The fish will also wake up if a fire is lit on the island before the crew does, or if the PCs make any extremely loud noises (such as that of an explosion).

Once the fish wakes up, enter Action Time. The fish takes a turn at the beginning of initiative order every round. On its turn, the fish always sinks two feet into the water. The PCs must use this time to run back to the ship before they sink with the fish! If they make a move or dash action, they must make an Acrobatics or Athletics check (whichever best fits the action); on a failed check, they can only move at half speed that turn due to the rising water. The DC for this check starts at 5, and increases by 5 for every two feet the fish sinks after the first. If any PC is below the water (this would typically be when the fish has sunken six feet for a medium-sized creature, or three feet for a small one), they must swim to their destination, and they must hold their breath unless they have some means of breathing underwater.

You don't need to roll for the crew during this part - you can just assume that enough redshirts drowned to make things suitably dramatic, but enough survived that the ship is still in working order. However, if there are any named NPCs on the ship, you may wish to have them act during the initiative order like the PCs, following the same rules.

If you so desire, you can add other obstacles to overcome during the run to the ship if you want make the encounter more challenging. Do not forget that, although most parties will likely run for the ship, other courses of action are possible and should be allowed according to the DM's judgment. If anyone in the party is able to communicate with the fish, for instance, they may be able to convince it to take them to their destination - though the fish will likely demand something in return.

Friday Encounter: Deals at the Crossroads

For optimal folkloric resonance, the best place to use this encounter is at a crossroads, preferably at night. As everyone knows, the crossroads is a place where the boundaries between worlds are weak, and it's easier to contact the other side - or, for that matter, for the other side to contact you. However, it would also work in the wilderness, in a dungeon, or perhaps even in a town, after everyone else is asleep.

Background

In the Lunar Lands, there are numerous places where the fabric of reality thins, and it is easier for things from other worlds to slip through. Crossroads are particularly susceptible to this, as an already liminal space where multiple routes intersect. Alimuth, a demon, has taken advantage of this. Like all demons, he delights in using his magic to bring mortals to ruin and spread discord, and he has come into the possession of multiple mortal souls through offering fabulous powers in exchange for immortal servitude. Now, the PCs might well become his latest clients...

The Encounter

Alimuth will appear to the PCs at the crossroads when no one else is around. He takes the disguise of a wealthy merchant, wearing fine clothes embroidered with fur and brocades, but all in shades of red. Like all demons, Alimuth is physically incapable of invoking the names of any gods, and instead refers to them by epithets and titles whenever possible. Additionally, a DC 20 Perception check reveals that he has slit pupils like those of a cat.

The "merchant" is found sitting on a cart hitched to a donkey on the side of the road. The cart has lost a wheel and sunken into a ditch - Alimuth is particularly interested in corrupting good-hearted and generous souls, and wants to pose as someone in need of help as a way to lure the PCs closer. He calls to the PCs for aid as they pass.

It's a simple enough task to find the missing wheel and fix the cart - no rolling is necessary. Alimuth just wants to get the PCs close enough to make his pitch. He graciously thanks the PCs and commends them on their kindness - then offers to repay them in a way only he can.

At this point, Alimuth promises to impart each of the PCs with a special "blessing." He will teach any of the PCs one spell from the warlock spell list, regardless of whether or not they have any levels in warlock. This spell should be one suited to the character's class, playstyle, and strategies, and should be one spell level higher than the highest level of spell slot a warlock of the same level as the PC would have access to - this is a more powerful spell than what would otherwise be possible of the PC. If the PC is a spellcasting class, the spell is cast as they would normally cast any other spell and takes up one spell slot of their highest available level. If they are not a spellcasting class, they can cast it as a warlock would (ie. their spell save DC is 8 + proficiency bonus + CHA, and their spell attack modifier is proficiency bonus + CHA), once per long rest.

However, this comes at a cost. To teach the PC the spell, Alimuth will need ownership over their soul as payment. If the PC dies, their soul is immediately damned to Hell; they automatically fail all death saves, and they cannot be resurrected or communed with unless their soul is retrieved from Hell directly or Alimuth otherwise relinquishes control over their soul. Furthermore, they are to forfeit their life after a year and a day (you are keeping track of time, right?). If they are still alive at this time, Alimuth will send a pack of three hellhounds after the party to attack them. The hounds appear at nightfall every day until the affected PC dies, heralding their arrival with the sound of a loud howl, and will track them relentlessly. If the hounds are killed, they simply respawn the next night. If the affected PC dies, the hounds immediately vanish and do not attack the rest of the party. The hounds cannot enter holy ground, such as a temple or the burial ground of a saint.

Although a demon, Alimuth is a man of his word and does not attempt to mislead or trick the people he deals with. He presents the PCs with a contract in which all the relevant information is laid out (albeit in circuitous language that is difficult to understand), and will not teach them the spell until the PCs sign the contract in their blood (he provides a quill with a pointy tip, if necessary). However, he will try his best to persuade them, describing how it's in their best interests to branch out with magic, and they surely won't be in any danger any time soon with such fabulous magic on their side.

If the PCs turn him down, Alimuth will disappear, but emphasizes that the PCs are welcome to change their mind at any time. He will also disappear if attacked. If they return to the crossroads with the express intent of visiting Alimuth, he will be right where they left him. He will not appear if they are just passing through.

Optionally, you might rule that a cleric or paladin who sells their soul to Alimuth will no longer be able to use class features that rely on divine favor, since their soul is no longer pledged to their patron god. However, this runs the risk of mechanically crippling a character and may necessitate multiclassing for them to remain viable, so it's best to talk this over with your players to make sure they're prepared for such measures. If you don't see a year and a day passing over the course of the campaign, another optional measure to speed things up would be to have Alimuth's contract specify it expires in a year and a day in Hell, and he comes from a domain of Hell where time passes faster than it does in the mortal realm - so he may come to collect the bargain sooner than expected!

Furthermore, even if Alimuth does collect a PC's soul, that might not be the end. A resourceful party might find a way to track the demon down and convince him to give up their ally's soul - or even free their companion from Hell itself.

Saga of the Ortegids: Races

The settings of the Dragon Quest games tend to be quite humanocentric. Almost all playable characters throughout the series have been human, and the ones that aren't tend to be cursed humans or tamed monsters rather than sapient humanoids. In the entire Erdrick Trilogy, there are only two nonhuman polities (three if you count Charlock), and nonhumans are not found in human realms. However, nonhuman races do appear in the Trilogy, and some play quite a prominent role in certain quests. Thus, there is room for discussion on what role the different playable races fill in The Saga of the Ortegids.

In general, nonhumans have their own kingdoms, and there is little overlap in demographics between them and human states. Mixed settlements are rare to unheard of. This is clearly a world closer to Middle-Earth than Faerun. This doesn't mean that nonhumans should never be found in human settlements - I think there's something to be said for leaning into the Blacksandliness of Ashalam and having some beastmen there, for instance - but this should be rare, and worthy of comment.

• Elves are your typical willowy magically-inclined forest dwellers. From what we see of Elvenham in Dragon Quest III, they don't have much in the way of permanent structures, which may imply a semi-nomadic lifestyle, or else they live in the trees and we can't reach their dwellings. I'd be inclined to rule them as wood elves, rather than high elves, but they do tend to be fiercely xenophobic and look down upon humans. They have one kingdom, Elvenham, located in the forests in the far north of the Romalian Empire. I would give them multiple such realms in wooded areas throughout the worlds. In particular, I think it makes sense for them to have a heavy presence in the Worldforest.

• Hobbits appear a few times in DQ3,mostly as one-off NPCs. Of note, the series consistently uses the term "hobbit" rather than "halfling," and I'm going to be keeping that - this project is already an act of copyright infringement anyway, so Tolkien lawyers can't stop me. Curiously, these hobbits tend to be quite solitary; the only two with significant dialogue both live alone in the wilderness, in contrast to the typical bucolic villages we expect of halflings. For The Saga of the Ortegids, I would run hobbits as typically being loners and hermits dwelling far from civilization, leaning into a more fey vibe. Ironically, more Tom Bombadil than Frodo.

• Dwarves do not actually appear in the Erdrick Trilogy, but it feels weird to have elves and hobbits without them, especially if translating the setting to D&D. I would add dwarven strongholds to the mountainous regions of the worlds, likely as self-sufficient and isolationist holdouts that trade little with the outside world to explain their absence from the games. The fact that the world is hollow does have some interesting implications with a subterranean race. There may be dwarves who maintain tunnels linking Erdland and Torland, allowing for travel between the two worlds - though this would, of course, require gaining the trust of the dwarves involved. There is a considerable overlap with hobbits here; one of the hobbits in DQ3 lives in a cave in the mountains, and some translations of the game use the term "dwarf" instead of "hobbit" for these characters. However, the term "hobbit" is used in the GBC release, which is what I'm most familiar with, and the Japanese script specifically uses the word "hobitto," so I'd like to keep them as halflings.

• Beastmen, also referred to as Orcs, would take the place of orcs, goblins, and other monstrous humanoids, and would be represented by their stats. This is a catch-all term to encompass the various humanoid monsters encountered in the Erdrick Trilogy (at least the ones that don't appear to be actual humans, and there's far more of those in earlier games than one familiar with later entries would expect). The series uses anthropomorphic animals more than it uses humanoids with odd skin tones and bestial features - orcs are consistently pig-faced, for instance. So if the Caves of Chaos exists in Torland, it's inhabited by wolf-men, swine-men, bird-men, ape-men, rat-men, and lizard-men instead of orcs, goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears - which is quite satisfyingly pulpy anyway. There aren't as many of these sorts of monsters in 3 compared to the first two games, so I'd say that beastmen are native to Torland, but they've no doubt established populations in Erdland as well from past excursions. Beastmen tend to be brutish, barbaric, and degenerate, but in the interests of portraying a more realistic ecology than what's in the video games, they would have some degree of society, with villages and fortifications scattered throughout the worlds.

• Dragonborn, or Dragovians, actually fit pretty nicely into the setting. The Dragon Quest games have a number of NPCs who are dragons capable of taking human form, and having dragonborn be playable would represent similar characters. In the interests of game balance, these would have to be lesser descendants of dragons that cannot take the form of a true dragon, but still possess draconic powers. They look mostly human, but may have horns, patches of scales, unusually-colored eyes, or other such features. Their primary realms are Charlock in Torland, and a small kingdom north of the Worldforest in Erdland.

• Tieflings aren't specifically present in the games either, but I would allow them as a playable race anyway. A number of villains in the series have monstrous features that are never really explained, and the amount of demonic incursions into mortal domains would make it quite believable that some interbreeding would occur. Tieflings would be very rare, appearing only sporadically and often being shunned by society, and would not have much in the way of their own civilizations.

• The Drokkarim are something of my own creation. In DQ3, the villain Baramos looks like some kind of saurian humanoid. He's probably supposed to be some kind of demon, but due to technical limitations, they reuse his sprite a few times, including as a generic monster in Zenithia. And one boss, though portrayed in recent releases as Baramos's ghost due to a mistranslation, is actually supposed to be his brother seeking vengeance. Based on this, I've interpreted Baramos to be a member of an entire race I've called the Drokkarim. These creatures are twice as tall as humans, with dragon-like heads and wings and three-fingered claws. They were originally created through the experimentations of the mad wizards of Old Aliahan by breeding humans, demons, and dragons together, and the knowledge behind their creation is long since lost, but scattered populations of them still live on. Drokkarim would be very rare, solitary creatures and would not be available as PCs.

Friday Encounter: Cloaking Devices

I've said before that cloakers unfairly get a bad reputation as "gotcha monsters" that only exist to pretend to be cloaks and fool anyone stupid enough to put on some random cloak lying around in a dungeon. But I've never seen them that way. Firstly, because in no game I've ever run has there been a situation where it would ever make sense for someone to put on a random cloak that they just found in a dungeon - and secondly, because the concept of a flat monster has so much more potential. Potential I intend to exploit here.

This encounter is best suited to a dungeon. There should be a room where there is a tall, narrow shaft in the ceiling, extending some 30 feet above the PCs' heads. The shaft is too narrow for a humanoid to fit through, and the sides are too steep to be climbed, but it is home to a cloaker - and it makes use of this fact to launch ambushes.

If creatures pass underneath the shaft, the cloaker will drop down on top of them, attempting to latch onto them with a bite attack to smother them. It will target any creatures bearing light sources if possible, so that it won't be adversely impacted by its sensitivity to light. If the creatures prove a threat to the cloaker and it drops to half HP, it will attempt to use its Phantasms ability to distract the party with illusory decoys before it retreats to the shaft to take cover. While in the shaft, the cloaker has full cover and cannot be targeted.

Even when wounded, the cloaker will attempt to secure its prey, using hit-and-run tactics against the party. It could wait for the PCs to pass through the room again, hopefully when they're weaker, and then strike. It could attempt to make noise to lure one of the PCs apart from the rest of the group and try to pick them off. A really devious feature for this encounter would be to have the shaft connect to other rooms in the dungeon, creating a network of narrow passages that the cloaker could travel through, but the party couldn't. You could even design an entire dungeon around this conceit!

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

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...