Lore Drop – Draconic Prophecy: The Written Scribes

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If the Written Scribe tells the stories of the dead before the throne of Winter, attended by the Daughter of Hearts then there may be an end to cycles, or a path for the Fury of War to contend with the Shadow of Mystery in the dust motes of the blinded Eye.

If the Daughter of Hearts embraces the Fury of Flame, then Secrets may contend more directly with War, but only if balanced by one whose aim is true. If the Scribe heals the blinded Eye without the Hunter’s guidance then the arrows and anger of war will strike – but with that guidance there will be a choice of target. The downfall of Amber comes by many roads, each to the joy of a prisoned Lord. War or Secrets, Winter or Hags, each a story to be retold without end, echoing in the mountains

The love of opposites need not be a curse, nor may it always bring peace. Balance and Force permit choice – but the Scribes may not agree on their course. A small war echoes larger conflict, and Dust may contest among the Snows – and choices by Scribe, Daughter, Hunter, King, and Guide must be weighed against Hags old and new in the Wilds.

The Knight is old and full of terror.

An Unexpected Trip

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I wasn’t expecting the call late morning from the boy. The day had started with the cub being very reluctant to go to school which piled on the starting stresses. I then had a fairly intense steering group meeting and had just gone to get a coffee while i processed it when my phone lit up.

The child had fallen at school and cracked his head – we needed to get him straight to hospital. One downing of tools and urgent messaging of a few people later I was on my way. Admittedly with a head full of brain fog and anxiety it was the wrong way but some course corrections got me there and the boy was duly sat down in the urgent treatment centre. He was conscious and chatty, albeit paler than usual and unsteady, but they quickly ruled out concussion or anything more serious.

And so that’s how I ended up holding the cub’s head while 4 staples were put in the back of it. He was a brave lad, just wanted it over and done with. And then we went home and a stress-induced migraine knocked me out.

Strange day.

Map – Woodland Market

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I’ve revised a small map I made last year to add some details and expand it in size for better framing. Its a simple clearing in the woods with merchant tents, carts, crates, and assorted scenery. It’s a gridless 35×30 map with a 2 square border – which should give you everything you need to fit it for your virtual tabletop of choice.

I’ve also shared the Dungeon Alchemist file at https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3231315811 if you want to grab the original and tinker with it.

Lore Drop – Bolt

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The offloading of cargo had gone smoothly, and a fresh load of provisions was being secured below by Drevit with the usual level of orcish profanities. Bolt took a moment to scan round the deck and take in the relative quiet. The cantilevered and folded sails were gathered in and locked down. The elemental containment ring was quiescent and softly gleaming every now and then. The gentle thrum of the engines barely registered as a vibration in the soles of his feet. Aside from Spark, he had the wheelhouse to himself.

The passengers were all gone. True, they had tried to come back, but he’d seen them on their way. They had been an interesting bunch – more varied than the usual class of customers. Certainly they’d been more rambunctious in their jokes and pranks. The captain had gone out of his way to keep out of trouble on the way up from Flamekeep, but the next leg of their route would be brushing the Mournlands. He’d been very definite about not extending the passengers’ stay. He’d described them as too noisy – even discounting their lukewarm fame.

Bolt would have sighed happily if he breathed, but instead he flipped a coin across his steel knuckles and watched as Spark scrubbed at a stubborn stain on the boards. One of the passengers had somehow produced a salmon after pretending to fish off the side.

Wherever that dressed and filleted salmon had come from, it had been stored in some sort of fluid that had left a distressingly brown stain as it dried. Nothing was shifting it. He tilted his head for a moment in thought, replaying the scene. Then he left the wheelhouse and made his way to the back of the ship. There was an access ladder down the back so that the propeller mechanisms could be accessed during flight.

The gnomes that had installed the equipment had said that the soarwood that formed the ship’s keel and main infrastructure was enough to keep them in the clouds, but the extra mechanisms would assist the elemental’s lift and push. Despite their protestations as to the efficiency and reliability of their machinery, the captain had insisted on inspection ladders being fitted anyway. Bolt paused and peered over the edge. Down past the idle cogs, pistons, and crankshafts it was a long way down to the streets below.

He touched the carved feather token pinned to his jacket for luck and then swung over the edge onto the rungs. The morning sun hadn’t burned off the night’s condensation and chill here, so the going was slippery. As descents went, it wasn’t too arduous. Bolt just needed to tighten his grip and shift his balance every now and then as he climbed the equivalent height of a two storey house. That was where the rudder mechanism had fouled with the halfling’s misplaced rope. He leaned between two solid beams and braced against the hull for a break.

He’d been down here enough times that he was confident he’d spot anything out of place. It at least looked like the gears and mechanisms were clear and undamaged. When he looked at the wood of the hull next to it though, he would have frowned if his faceplate allowed the movement. A series of gouges and screwholes marred the smooth lines of the clinker-built hull. They didn’t seem bad enough to compromise anything, but he’d need to get someone down here with some tools to patch it. At the very least he’d need a plane and some pitch.

Something had been attached here. It didn’t look like a creature had done the damage. There was more of the staining here, which at least made a connection to the salmon. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear someone or something had hitched a ride by screwing a compartment to the hull. Well, whatever it had been, it was gone. At a guess there had been some sort of claw-like mechanism that had released. If anyone had heard anything, they hadn’t reported it.

As the captain had said – far too noisy a bunch of adventurers. Bolt took a moment to look around for any other traces or damage and then began the climb back up to get some tools. Maybe he could convince Spark there were more fish down here?

Map – Hermit’s Retreat

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Today’s map features a large multi-room cabin in the middle of forested wetlands. The hermit who lives here keeps bees, has planters full of flowers, an out house, a trough for visitors’ horses, and a warm fire. A dice table suggests a love of entertaining visitors and a spare bed for late nights. There’s almost certainly no significance to the broken and empty tomb beneath the trees out the back of the building – is there?

The base map is a 30×30 gridless with a 2 square border so you can resize the image above, or if you go to https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3229850957 you can download the original Dungeon Alchemist files. Have fun!

NPC – Vhardesh

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As I’ve said a few times, using Heroforge to pass the time is a great way to keep my brain ticking over. It helps with plotting future elements of the game, inspiring weird and wonderful twists, and sometimes even helps me rule out some options. And so, to Vhardesh, who hails from Valenia’s old home town. They’re a Mark of Finding operative of House Tharashk – which can be someone who finds lost items, prospects for dragonshards, or acts as a bounty hunter. It’s not uncommon to find dragonmarked half-orcs who do any and all of these for their House – each activity is as lucrative as the next.

Vhardesh is an ex-soldier – he served in the Last War as a Lieutenant leading troops against the Eldeen Reaches. It was a front with a high rate of attrition, and as soon as the War ended he resigned and went back to his House. He lost a lot of friends, and doesn’t make new ones easily.

Vhardesh specialises in using two-handed weapons – in particular the Maul he has kept since his days in the army, and a huge greataxe of warning that he claimed from a fallen foe. He swears that the great eye engraved between its blades has kept watch behind him more times than he can count.

I’ve also made a character sheet for him at https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/122899344/gUqnWc which you’re welcome to take a look at and copy if you like

Map – Town Streets 3

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There’s no game today due to widespread illness, so I’ve whipped up another selection of streets and buildings for those moments when you need something for an unexpected encounter or backdrop for some roleplay.

There’s two parallel streets and some buildings that open on to both, as well as a small square with a fountain that several homes are fronted by. I’ve shared the original file on Steam at https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3228804109 if you want to have a play around with it.

Exhausted

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I’ve caught something that has flattened me the last few days. It started with sinus pains and head cold symptoms, then became a migraine, and then sore eyes and tiredness that has had me asleep most of today.

So that’s been fun.

My oh-so-helpful brain has been raging and annoyed at being unwell, but that seems to be the default whether it’s something physical or mental so I’m trying to ignore it and take the time I need instead.

My hope is that at this pace I’ll be back up and business as usual come Monday. Fingers crossed

NPC – Kher Update

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I’ve updated Kher as he’s an NPC that’s getting a lot of use in the secondary stream of the story – and its been so long since I made the original model that a whole new set of facial models and options have become available – so, why not?

I’ve kept most of his original clothing and colour scheme, but removed the tatty hood and replaced it with a bandana. It’s pulled down in this model, but ready for when he thinks he’s going incognito. I’ve also replaced the original warhammer with a large maul that seems more in keeping with how he’s developed.

In keeping with how he’s developed, there’s less of the naked aggression from his original model. He now has an inquisitive and slightly guarded expression. He may be half ogre, but the other half is a powerful hag and he observes more than he sometimes lets on. In addition, hanging around with Katya, Faye, and Rakken (now Tania) has widened his horizons from the simple life of brutality he learned at his parents’ knees.

At just shy of seven foot, he just about still counts as a Medium sized creature on the tabletop – and technically he’s an ogrillon rather than a half hag. With that in mind I went ahead and made him up as a barbarian character using a custom lineage – and you can find him at https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/122930280/oTmNB9.

Lore Drop – Moving Day

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There had been a lot of builders working on Katya’s house, adding an extension. It was well known that she had taken on Kerne’s sister as an apprentice so it only made sense that more space would be needed. Then they’d taken in the new arrival – Talia. Someone had said that Talia used to be Rakken, and people had nodded sagely. Given the recent history of the Hold with werewolves, squid-headed aberrations, rampaging trolls, and a timeslip of some kind caused by fairies – well it wasn’t the most outlandish thing they’d heard.

There was a loud thud that sounded like furniture being moved around. A gruff voice said something indistinct. Then there were several more loud thuds and the sound of something heavy scraping across floorboards. There was a brief silence and then the sound of breaking glass

“Oops” The voice was so deep it rumbled, and travelled further than its owner probably appreciated.

“”Move your hairy arse!” yelled Faye, “I’ll clean that up, you go and get your bag!” There was an indistinct crunching noise and after a moment the front door opened. Curious onlookers quickly moved away as a brutish form began squeezing through it. Clad in rough furs and leather jerkin, the half-ogre eased his way back into the open air, then paused to inspect the lintel.

“Gonna need a bigger door.” Kher rumbled. “Specially if I’m bringing food in.”

“As long as its not rabbit!” snapped Katya, appearing in the entrance, waving him back.

“I make good rabbit stew, you liked it the other day.”

“Okay, as long as they can’t talk.” She crossed her arms, hair colour flickering as if burning. This was a reliable sign of stress that the villagers were used to.

“No talking rabbits, got it. How about talking squirrels? They’re nice and crunchy on a stick.” Kher almost managed to keep a deadpan tone and then ruined it with a cheeky grin.

“No talking animals at all! What did I say?” Katya crossed her arms. Behind her, Faye waved a wand and a glass bowl began to reassemble itself on a table.

“You don’t want to eat something that can talk itself out of the cooking pot. Nothing sent-ee-ent, you said. Dunno what they is, but I can get some really stupid sheep?” Kher had ambled across the yard in this time and was scooping up a large leather sack. He peered into it. “Nothing talking in here.” He gave it a gentle shake. “See?”

“If I find anything wearing a scarf or a waistcoat in that bag, I won’t be impressed young man!” Katya was trying to suppress her own smile. Kher swung the bag across his shoulder and picked up a large satchel. It was roughly the size of one of the local children who were hanging off the fence. “I mean it! If you’re moving in, I’m not having an argument with the dinner!”

Kher chuckled. He enjoyed teasing the firehair.