Dolksford, Free Barony of Illefarn, Wyrmnal
To His Lordship, the Viscount Wilfrick of Verbobonc,
My militia companions and I were sent out to the homesteads to confirm some odd stories. As we traveled up the Delimbra River, I noticed the vegetation dying alongside the river. The further we traveled, the wider the trouble. Soon, we reached the source of our complaint, the homestead of Meloch and his family. The animals seemed sickly, crops were still to be planted, but the first burgeoning weeds had turned black.
The River Delimbra had an odd, almost glowing green slick upon it. I've never seen such a thing before, I dare say I don't wish to see anything like it again.
Meloch's family looked hungry but healthy. The animals used river water, but the household used a small well that seemed fine, so far.
The other farmers gathered and claimed the ground shook a few days before the green substance appeared in the river. The biggest damage to the land they had found was near a hill further upstream.
Further investigation at the hill uncovered an ancient stone entrance, carved with dwarven runes. Murag conceded that this had been some portion of a much older dwarven mine... the original Illefarn.
We came back to the homestead to barter for some supplies, even trading some of our rations to the farmers.
With enough gear to clamor underground, we uncovered a mine that had been abandoned centuries ago, but its chambers were quite occupied.
Three factions fought for control of the many levels of the mine complex. Dwarves, probably from the south, were searching for artifacts, in a plodding and respectful manner. I believed Korin Ironaxe, the leader, was a man of good heart and honest intentions, even if we killed three of his guards before attempting to parlay with the fourth.
His research would have been completed too, if it weren't for a small horde of orcs, goblins, and other unsurly wretches scampering through large swaths of the complex.
Although Murag was a Wyrmnal Dwarf, he was essential with brokering an unsteady alliance with the treasure hunters. In exchange for searching for the source of the green poison, we would help Korin's followers drive the foul beasts from a few more rooms. It was not as effective as we would have liked, as both sides waited for the other to double-cross them.
But that paranoia quickly fell by the wayside as small hordes of the living dead poured out of doors unclaimed by either side.
I'm not wholly sure I believe the homesteaders who say we were down in Old Illefarn for ten days. Sometimes it felt like an eternity. Being constantly attacked by two separate forces, for the skeletons and zombies belonged to some death cult which found a portion to call its home, then staging counter-attacks to create separation, or even find clean water, seemed to be never-ending.
I will say this of the Dwarves, they are a stubborn and patient folk. With a lifespan four times that of normal men, they seemed unfazed to stay in cramp, dark, conditions for hours, waiting for the situation to change, or the pursuers to tire of the game. I still prefer my companion Moreg to the southern dwarves. He is quieter, less mischievous, and was a better fighter than many of the diggers and researchers, save Korin.
Ultimately, we prevailed... at stopping the green liquid from reaching the river. The mines contained a series of cisterns, and the quaking Earth damaged a portion of the system, including sending poisons downriver. We were able to stop the green flow and give the dwarves some additional territory, so they could repair the rest in safety.
We returned as heroes, because the green poison was just starting to reach Dolksford. With the flows stopped, the water returned to its normal state.
We were hailed as heroes again and rewarded, again, by Melfarm. Life would had been swell, if it weren't for two things.
The scoundrel, Rolgrim, took our simple story of defeating orcs in a cave system into a sheer exaggeration of KING Ironaxe and his army defeating a horde of orcs and a mob of undead assaulting their massive complex.
Due to Melfarm's greed and lust for power, he began organizing the militia to attack Old Illefarn, with us as the leaders.
I'm not sure how we would have gotten out of that mess, but luckily, my past came to even the deal.
Jarl Runholf had sent men out to hunt me down for the indignities I put through himself and his elf-loving wife, but had zero success. However, the news of the Order of Merit was being sent up to Norvikk, trickled through Marholm and Runholf the Dandy saw straight through the tricky disguise.
Not of my new surname and feisty reputation, but rather, I was the only Elsderth in the entire land of Wyrmnal.
The bounty hunters caught me with my companions on the drill field with a large audience. The townsfolk and fellow militiamen were resigned to give me to these men, but my companions had grown attached to me and wished me to stay quite alive. With those four between me and a painful and torturous rest of my life, I raised the stakes by pulling out... a rock. We had found it in Old Illefarn and Murag taught me the chant inscribed on the top of it.
Everyone, including myself, was amazed to see a being of earth and stone, assume a form right from the drill grounds and begin slaying the bounty hunters, then turning on the militia and townsfolk.
Not understanding the SECOND chant to control it, inscribed on the bottom of the rock, or the fact alluding me that all commands were to be spoken in Dwarfish, it rampaged throughout the town.
We all realized that our time in Illefarn was fleeting, so we dashed behind some houses, found our belongings, grabbed our horses, and are now heading back through Willip.
Destination? Verbobonc.
Home.
Your Faithful Servant,
Elsderth Greyhawk, Sellsword and Sage of the Order of Merit.
Saviour and Ravager of Dolksford, in countless ways.
DM Notes: The last few letters are a result of Talanth Blackash's crew visiting Dolksford, getting wrapped up in an unrequited romance, and leaving abruptly, although in the campaign, the returned the Baron's sister from a second kidnapping with her word clearing them of any guilt. The Blackash Crew never stayed long, and rarely finished any standalone module.
Besides this fictional run-through, I've never gotten any group into the dungeon portion of N5 - Under Illefarn. It is a solid enough set-up that I plan on inserting it into two completely different campaigns I have in my idea book.
Yet, as I maneuvered this fictional band through Illefarn as a plot device for following the Blackash Crew, my GM instincts took over. Elsderth's Order of Merit (his name for the group, not anyone else's) would not clear out Old Illefarn. They would help Korin make some headway, find some treasure, solve the problem, and leave Dolksford. They leave behind a weakened humanoid warband, a growing death cult, and dwarves trying to fix a cistern(s) that may or may not be poisoned.
With the Order's departure, and Korin Ironaxe methodically making progress, the death cult would slowly overwhelm them, with "bodies" and possibly the malignancy of the green water.
The earth elemental will distract the Baron Melfarm for awhile, but when he or his descendants finally turns his attention to the Dwarven enclave, what happens when the inhabitants are undead... and recently transformed proto-Chaos Dwarves!
The only thing more patient than a dwarf, is the undead without a close target.
Hey, it could happen!
Next: #13 Griffon's Cove
To His Lordship, the Viscount Wilfrick of Verbobonc,
My militia companions and I were sent out to the homesteads to confirm some odd stories. As we traveled up the Delimbra River, I noticed the vegetation dying alongside the river. The further we traveled, the wider the trouble. Soon, we reached the source of our complaint, the homestead of Meloch and his family. The animals seemed sickly, crops were still to be planted, but the first burgeoning weeds had turned black.
The River Delimbra had an odd, almost glowing green slick upon it. I've never seen such a thing before, I dare say I don't wish to see anything like it again.
Meloch's family looked hungry but healthy. The animals used river water, but the household used a small well that seemed fine, so far.
The other farmers gathered and claimed the ground shook a few days before the green substance appeared in the river. The biggest damage to the land they had found was near a hill further upstream.
Further investigation at the hill uncovered an ancient stone entrance, carved with dwarven runes. Murag conceded that this had been some portion of a much older dwarven mine... the original Illefarn.
We came back to the homestead to barter for some supplies, even trading some of our rations to the farmers.
With enough gear to clamor underground, we uncovered a mine that had been abandoned centuries ago, but its chambers were quite occupied.
Three factions fought for control of the many levels of the mine complex. Dwarves, probably from the south, were searching for artifacts, in a plodding and respectful manner. I believed Korin Ironaxe, the leader, was a man of good heart and honest intentions, even if we killed three of his guards before attempting to parlay with the fourth.
 |
| Korin Ironaxe and his lovely wife, Brurheadeth |
Although Murag was a Wyrmnal Dwarf, he was essential with brokering an unsteady alliance with the treasure hunters. In exchange for searching for the source of the green poison, we would help Korin's followers drive the foul beasts from a few more rooms. It was not as effective as we would have liked, as both sides waited for the other to double-cross them.
But that paranoia quickly fell by the wayside as small hordes of the living dead poured out of doors unclaimed by either side.
I'm not wholly sure I believe the homesteaders who say we were down in Old Illefarn for ten days. Sometimes it felt like an eternity. Being constantly attacked by two separate forces, for the skeletons and zombies belonged to some death cult which found a portion to call its home, then staging counter-attacks to create separation, or even find clean water, seemed to be never-ending.
I will say this of the Dwarves, they are a stubborn and patient folk. With a lifespan four times that of normal men, they seemed unfazed to stay in cramp, dark, conditions for hours, waiting for the situation to change, or the pursuers to tire of the game. I still prefer my companion Moreg to the southern dwarves. He is quieter, less mischievous, and was a better fighter than many of the diggers and researchers, save Korin.
Ultimately, we prevailed... at stopping the green liquid from reaching the river. The mines contained a series of cisterns, and the quaking Earth damaged a portion of the system, including sending poisons downriver. We were able to stop the green flow and give the dwarves some additional territory, so they could repair the rest in safety.
We returned as heroes, because the green poison was just starting to reach Dolksford. With the flows stopped, the water returned to its normal state.
We were hailed as heroes again and rewarded, again, by Melfarm. Life would had been swell, if it weren't for two things.
The scoundrel, Rolgrim, took our simple story of defeating orcs in a cave system into a sheer exaggeration of KING Ironaxe and his army defeating a horde of orcs and a mob of undead assaulting their massive complex.
Due to Melfarm's greed and lust for power, he began organizing the militia to attack Old Illefarn, with us as the leaders.
I'm not sure how we would have gotten out of that mess, but luckily, my past came to even the deal.
Jarl Runholf had sent men out to hunt me down for the indignities I put through himself and his elf-loving wife, but had zero success. However, the news of the Order of Merit was being sent up to Norvikk, trickled through Marholm and Runholf the Dandy saw straight through the tricky disguise.
Not of my new surname and feisty reputation, but rather, I was the only Elsderth in the entire land of Wyrmnal.
The bounty hunters caught me with my companions on the drill field with a large audience. The townsfolk and fellow militiamen were resigned to give me to these men, but my companions had grown attached to me and wished me to stay quite alive. With those four between me and a painful and torturous rest of my life, I raised the stakes by pulling out... a rock. We had found it in Old Illefarn and Murag taught me the chant inscribed on the top of it.
Everyone, including myself, was amazed to see a being of earth and stone, assume a form right from the drill grounds and begin slaying the bounty hunters, then turning on the militia and townsfolk.
Not understanding the SECOND chant to control it, inscribed on the bottom of the rock, or the fact alluding me that all commands were to be spoken in Dwarfish, it rampaged throughout the town.
We all realized that our time in Illefarn was fleeting, so we dashed behind some houses, found our belongings, grabbed our horses, and are now heading back through Willip.
Destination? Verbobonc.
Home.
Your Faithful Servant,
Elsderth Greyhawk, Sellsword and Sage of the Order of Merit.
Saviour and Ravager of Dolksford, in countless ways.
DM Notes: The last few letters are a result of Talanth Blackash's crew visiting Dolksford, getting wrapped up in an unrequited romance, and leaving abruptly, although in the campaign, the returned the Baron's sister from a second kidnapping with her word clearing them of any guilt. The Blackash Crew never stayed long, and rarely finished any standalone module.
Besides this fictional run-through, I've never gotten any group into the dungeon portion of N5 - Under Illefarn. It is a solid enough set-up that I plan on inserting it into two completely different campaigns I have in my idea book.
Yet, as I maneuvered this fictional band through Illefarn as a plot device for following the Blackash Crew, my GM instincts took over. Elsderth's Order of Merit (his name for the group, not anyone else's) would not clear out Old Illefarn. They would help Korin make some headway, find some treasure, solve the problem, and leave Dolksford. They leave behind a weakened humanoid warband, a growing death cult, and dwarves trying to fix a cistern(s) that may or may not be poisoned.
With the Order's departure, and Korin Ironaxe methodically making progress, the death cult would slowly overwhelm them, with "bodies" and possibly the malignancy of the green water.
The earth elemental will distract the Baron Melfarm for awhile, but when he or his descendants finally turns his attention to the Dwarven enclave, what happens when the inhabitants are undead... and recently transformed proto-Chaos Dwarves!
The only thing more patient than a dwarf, is the undead without a close target.
Hey, it could happen!
Next: #13 Griffon's Cove
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