A young man stumbles along a mountain trail crowded with pine needles, the sun blotted out by tall trees. Behind him, 6 goblins keep pace. Quick, but not as fast as goblins are want to go. They toy with their prey, taunting and throwing small rocks. The boy staggers, hardly lifting his feet high enough to clear the natural unevenness of the path. When they meet a tree root, he is sent sprawling onto his front. The squat green men laugh and jeer, slowing to a stop with enough distance from the boy to give him false hope of getting up and prolonging the pursuit. But the boy is exhausted. He has been on the road for a long time, and for the first time. He cannot struggle to his feet. He reaches into his robe, groping desperately for the arcane orb, his final defense.
From an unseen point in the woods, three beams of orange fire arc over the boys head and immolate a like number of goblins. They fall screaming. Those remaining break rank and flee into the woods. The boy, scarcely aware of what’s happened, catches his breath on the ground. Gentle footsteps approach, but the boy cannot find the energy to look at his saviour. Until he catches sight of two hooves standing before him. In a burst of energy driven only by fear, the boy launches to his feet. His wrist is caught by the stronger ringed hand of The Baron Voghtairi, his monstrous visage unaided by the flat line across his face. A touch of gentle curiosity dances in his eyes. His voice rumbles through the forest.
“You are far from home, boy. These woods are dangerous, you should not have come this way.”
A sternness the boy is all too familiar with. The hairs on his neck stand up. Without a second thought, he sprints into the woods.
The baron gazes after him, unmoved. Something about the boy seems strangely familiar.
I’m going to start writing these more play report style. I think it will break into fiction when it gets cool, but they’re getting long. Also as I write this I’m about 6 or 7 sessions behind.
The Friends of Orthos have inherited The Baron Cortiers castle after his defeat. I had initially thought about having some sort of political complication here with the party trying to gain control of the castle, but I don’t think they cared enough to fight for it, and also it’s nice for them to get a reward after all this. As such, each major faction in Cortier supported The Friends taking over Castle Cortier (if they promised to let the mayor of the town keep doing her own thing, which they did).
There’s something to be said here about the motivation behind this decision. Perhaps in a better sandbox game it would be nothing but the motivations of the factions that drives their decision to support. Just following that logic, I don’t think it makes much sense for these people who (following the traditions of this land) wouldn’t just replace their usurper with another person they don’t really know. But I wanted the players to have a castle, and they wanted a castle, but not badly enough to fight for it. Was this a good decision?
Here the players rest, and the session concludes. In between sessions, Icoriol asks around about potential magic zones since he wants to do some crafting. He hears about a strange tower (Talari saw this when rallying soldiers) and goes to investigate. We played this by post over Discord, it was a quick little adventure, but allowed for a nice introduction to a new character.
The elf broaches the clearing, stepping toward the statue. Towering 7 feet tall, made of solid metal, it guards the front door of the old tower. Beneath an emerald cloak Icoriol spies the metallic sheen of a sword blade. The statue turns as he enters - a man after all. His hand reaches up toward a hilt. Icoriol raises his hands defensively.
"Apologies, friend. I did not mean to startle you. My name is Icoriol, I come to study the tower. For what purpose do you find yourself here?"
A voice wafts forward from the horned helmet. No face visible through its dark slit.
"I am... just wandering."
The voice is deep, slow, deliberate, and stupid.
"Perhaps you would be interested in helping me," says Icoriol, "Together we could ascertain the nature of this tower more easily than either one of us alone."
The armor ponders the words.
"Yes."
"What should I call you? If we are to work together I should like to know your name."
"I... do not have a name."
"Come now, friend, you must be known by something?"
The armor towers over the elf, completely still. And yet, one could confuse its stoicism for awkwardness.
"Hmm... Friend. I will be called... Friend."Thus is introduced Friend, a replacement character for Talari’s player.
The tower contains some Helmed horrors and an explosive rune trap in a vault. The tower itself has a cool little mechanism that shines light onto the walls. My calendar said it was rainy today so they didn’t get the full extent. The pair spend the week at the tower.
Back at the castle, it is decided Talari will become the new lord of Cortier. After his travels he is ready to settle down, despite the looming threat of his elven master. He starts construction on the castle and decides to use spells to help out. I used Crown to figure out how long the construction would take and we rolled for spell corruption around 30 times. Two corruptions were triggered, leading to some ultimately uneventful rumors spreading about the new lord of Cortier. Perhaps this will develop.
At the end of the rest, The Friends gather together for their journey back to Orthos. Some time before the journey, they send a message to the Baron Voghtairi of Nildazi, informing them of their plans. They will meet with him after all, but not for a while.
The way back home is hexcrawling across a small section of map. Nothing that notable happens except for an encounter with an unexpectadly strong demon in a lake (Siriel is almost knocked out by high power jets of water). The session concludes with the party one tile away from Fangmire, back in Orthosian civilisation.
Overall the actual bulk of the session was just some admin in Cortier and hexcrawling. It felt a little bit pointless since Cortier is so far away, but I feel like making characters trek through the wilderness gives the world a sense of scope that is appreciated more in retrospect. Hexcrawling can also be fun in itself, when done right. Just journeying across the land is … okay. The real meat comes from actual exploring rather than travelling I feel, but it works. The catharsis of being back in civilisation is a pretty cool side effect. They’ve been on the road for a really long time in real life, let alone in character.