Sword of Blood

Inspired by a joke-calculation concerning how much blood it would actually take to forge a sword from the blood of your enemies ... This spell, sword of blood, is a ritual, a concept already in use in games like 5e, but the rules of which for my B/X game I just made up for this post. Maybe I'll rescind or modify them later, but I like the idea for now.

Rituals may be taken by clerics instead of their usual spells, or may take up a slot in a magic-user's or Elf's spellbook of a level equivalent to the ritual's level. Rituals are used in "downtime"--the rites and magic involved are too lengthy to be really useful in an adventure-context, and probably also don't add up to anything usefully gamable within that context. (Also, rituals usually use up large amounts of material components)

A terrible way to forge a sword ... but it is cinematic

Sword of Blood
ritual 4
range: the blood of all humans or humanoids being sacrificed as part of the ritual
components: 500 gold for the "liturgy" of each sacrificial "session"

By the means of this ritual, a cleric or magic-user extracts the iron from the let blood of a sacrificial victim of human or humanoid nature. Each individual's blood produces 1-4 grams of iron; this works out to requiring about 200 victims to provide enough blood for a single sword. (I did say that this was a long term "downtime" activity, unless your cleric or magic-user has the location and means to sacrifice 200 victims all in one go)

I wouldn't tend to worry about the grams themselves, just the number of victims; though the caster will require somewhere to store the iron they're collecting by means of the ritual until they have enough.

When enough iron has been acquired by means of this spell, it can be forged into a sword (or other desired weapon), by the caster if he has the wont and the skill, or by a hired armorer. When the sword has been forged, and a last instance of ritual incanted over it, roll a d20 and consult this table, add +1 to the roll if at least 5000 gold is spent on ornamental trappings for the sword:

1-2 -- the metal was impure and the weapon is worthless

3-4 -- it's a sword, but there's nothing magical about it

5-12 -- it's a sword +1; if the sword is ever destroyed or broken, an incorporeal wight will spring from the fragments, born from the hatred of the spirits trapped within; this spirit will seek out and destroy the sword's creator

13-16 -- it's an intelligent sword +2 of the same alignment as its creator, but it also actively hates its creator; 3 times per day the sword can do extra damage, i.e. for 1-10 rounds, each hit will do x4 damage; if the sword is ever destroyed or broken, a wraith born of the hate of the spirits trapped within will emerge and seek out and destroy the sword's creator

17-20 -- it's an intelligent sword that hates its creator, and acts as a lifedraining sword, i.e. on a hit it may drain 1 life level of energy; but after draining 13 life levels, the blood of those within its iron erupt as a spectre intent on destroying the original caster of the spell; the sword becomes a mere sword +1


It shouldn't need saying, but any Good character attempting to use this spell immediately loses their status as Good, and they also lose one life level, and must seriously atone even to regain their former alignment. Good characters attempting to wield these weapons feel intensely uneasy and treat the magical "plus" as a penalty instead. Surrendering such weapons to the Good cult to be redeemed is worth at least 1000 experience per magical "plus".

------

There is an 01-05 chance that any magical sword (or metal-headed weapon) found in a randomly generated treasure hoard was created by this ritual. Good characters find them uneasy to wield, as above, and may turn them over to the Good cult for "redemption" and experience points.

Moreover, more powerful magic swords of this type actively hate their creators and will seek out their destruction if possible. This would be an excellent hook for future adventures ...

Jungles of Chult -- Around the Head of the River Tiryki

In the first session of Tomb of Annihilation, the players decided that they would journey up the River Tiryki, which they can see entire on their copy of the hex map (much of central Chult are just blank hexes to be explored, but the Tiryki is "known territory"). They made this decision in large part because they hired two Tabaxi, River Mist and Flask of Wine, as their jungle guides, and the two mentioned that they knew directly of at least two sites near the head of the Tiryki--Firefinger and Dungrunglung. (the characters had otherwise been interested in seeking Camp Righteous and Camp Vengeance, up the River Soshenstar)

The Tiryki is the central of the three northern rivers

As a couple other reviews of ToA (at Dungeon of Signs and Against the Wicked City) make clear, the hex map of Chult is actually a kind of howling emptiness of hundreds of miles (dozens of days) of random encounters, interspersed with a sprinkling of interesting adventure locations. My intent is to create content for all those empty hexes--and because my players are headed up the Tiryki, I'll start with locations around its head.

The information is that which is known well enough locally in Nyzanzaru that rumors could be picked up just by mentioning the Tiryki, or is information directly from River Mist and Flask of Wine.

------

the Pilgrims' Guide
There is a statue on the bank of the river, a great idol like a stern king, River Wind says. That is when we know we are halfway up the River Tiryki. He is a stern king, but he points to the east directing pilgrims on their way to the City of Mists. Sometimes they leave offerings at his altar, but I do not touch them because he is a god.

There are other altars too, Flask of Wine adds. There are too many gods in these jungles.


Sailback Hill
There is an outcropping in a swamp shaped like a sailback, according to River Wind. We only saw it from afar, because it stands in a swamp, and we did not wish to wade there. But I think I saw a face at the hill's base, a gaping jaw with big fangs. There were many storks in that swamp, and I did not like the way their eyes looked at us.

The mouth is a cave, Flask of Wine says, but says no more.

A sailback, i.e. dimetrodon

Firefinger
It is a pinnacle topped with fire! River Wind explains. It lies on the right bank of the Tiryki--a finger pointed at the sky, with a pyre burning brightly, day and night, at its top. The dead lie thick around it--all those taken up by the pterafolk, and then thrown down from the top. We have climbed, Flask and I, and found a cave inside the finger--but we have gone no higher. Just the two of us, what would we do against the many pterafolk that nest at its top?

Flask of Wine only nods agreement.


Ataaz Ahiya ("the Weeping Gorge")
The head of the River Tiryki is in a gorge (other gorges are also named with "Ataaz" in Chult, so I assume that's what it means), approximately 25 miles long north to south, and ten miles wide east to west. Smaller tributaries to the Tiryki pour in around the gorge, either as high waterfalls cascading down cliff faces, or as narrower streams that have cut their way down through the surrounding highland. Many tribes of pterafolk roost in the heights of the cliffs around the gorge, ruled by an ogiso or king.

The face of Olokuna is said to have been carved into the southern cliff-face, with waterfalls pouring from its eyes, and a mouth that opens into a deep cavern and shrine. Olokuna is an androgynous water god, possessed of both male and female features, and idols to it often include both an erect phallus and a maze-like vulva.

Yes, yes, River Wind says, we have seen the face of the goddess. She weeps because she is forgotten by all but the monkeys who dwell in her mouth. I too would weep if stinking apes were in my mouth. Her servants, the lobster-men, peer with cold eyes from the waters beneath her shrine.

He weeps because he has waterfall eyes, Flask of Wine adds. There is gold and gems in his mouth, but the baboons are too many.


Dungrunglung
Dungrunglung is the greatest shrine of the grungs--the frog men, you know, River Wind says. We have looked on it only from afar, because it lies in the midst of a wide swamp, and it is closely surrounded by a hedge of thorns. The head of the shrine towers over the hedge like an evil frog, grinning at the swamp, and all the while the croaking of the frogs and the frog-men is sounding around you. It is southwest of the Weeping Gorge perhaps twenty miles--who knows? It is difficult to judge distance in the jungle.

And it is filled with treasures, I am sure of it, Flask of Wine mutters, almost to himself. Riches to make a man wealthy.

I might end up calling them grippli or bullywugs,
we'll see ...

City of the Faceless Men
Somewhere in the jungles south of the Ataaz Ahiya lies an ancient and ruined city, its name forgotten and only its curse remembered in tales and old epics. It was a city of the Eshowe, perhaps, before their slaughter; or a city of Omuans, cursed by God for the pride of their ways. Regardless of the origin a curse lies over the city--all those who enter are damned to contract a horrifying disease that slowly eats the flesh of the face until only a gaping hole remains where once were mouth, nose, and eyes. The legends vary about what lies within its cursed grounds--treasures untold, or only old broken stones? But one thing that is certain is that a tribe of cursed men live among the ruins (or eke out an undead existence)--the Faceless Men, the Mask-Wearers ... in every tale, they are said to haunt the ruins, perhaps as cannibals, perhaps as undead horrors, but always wearing masks to cover the horror of their hollow faces.

It is there, River Wind says, and her ears lower, and her eyes narrow. It is an evil place. I have forgotten the way, but I have seen the obelisks that mark its boundaries. They tell its curse, because the men there have no mouths behind their masks. I will not go back. She shakes her head after saying this, going to bathe in the river, and will not talk about the City any more after that.

I remember the way, Flask of Wine murmurs. There must be something there.

Greyhame Mountain Dungeon Expedition 17

Orcs have returned to the caverns of the Glimmervaults;
the Goblin King and the Lord of Werewolves have renewed their ancient alliance beneath the Howling Tower;
and the secret treasury of the ancient Bronding Kings is said to lie somewhere behind the Brokenbrand Falls, haunted by enchanting naiads ...
...
and Jaer the Windlord looks down on the world below from the Eyries of the Eagles on Greyhame Mountain itself;
and the Stars themselves are singing an eerie song, night after night ...


21 January's roster:
Kord (half-orc fighter 1/cleric 1)
Ham (cleric 1)
with Livy and Lysimmachus (normal men)
and Fang, Orkie, Blade, and a nameless mastiff


Kord's last expedition to the Greyhame Mountain Dungeons was the 14th, which is to say a couple weeks back, in-game. On that expedition, he and his compatriots (including Finbar the half-Elf) discovered a secret room behind some burial niches, a room filled with treasure--but also with strange magical shadows that leapt to life and attacked the party, draining the strength of those they touched.

Desiring to return there, but to defeat the shadows, Kord turned therefore, in search of a sage who might know more about what it takes to slay such enemies. There are two such sages who "lair" near enough town to be easily approached: Morla of the Mists, a sort of witchy hedge-wizard who dwells on a misty fen, and Axxl the Mask, a creature who hides his face -- rumored to be the ugliest face in the world -- behind an ever-changing array of masks. Kord elected to seek out Axxl.

AxxL is also a bizarre German Youtuber

When he arrived, he found Axxl the Mask to be standoffish and unwilling to consider any research for less than the going rate, i.e. 2000 gold for a month of research (or 500 gold for a week). This price seemed stiff to Kord, and he attempted to talk it down, but Axxl would not budge, other than to agree for an up front fee of 350 gold and payment of the rest on Kord's return ("We all know how you adventurers are of a short-lived variety, and my time is very valuable to me."). Kord seemed to intend to adventure during the week of research, but ultimately just paid the 500 gold; and after a week he was informed that the shadows typically encountered in dungeons are not undead, though they seem such, but that they are incorporeal and can only be struck by magical or possibly silvered weapons. Axxl further informed Kord that if a piece of one of these shadows were brought back to the sage, he would pay handsomely for it--though he had no idea how that might be effected.

Armed with this knowledge, Kord returned to Brakeridge and outfitted himself and his party for a foray to the Howling Tower (he had heard the tales of the last expedition from Baby Face and Blackleaf, but was also eager to seek out the secret gold he knew of). He bought two new dogs (Blade and the nameless mastiff), but with four dogs, two hirelings, and the henchman Ham to follow him, I had to check his Charisma score for maximum number of retainers--and CHA 9 allows four retainers at most, so even with dogs counting as half-retainers, he couldn't bring all of them.

Blade and the new mastiff were kenneled at the inn for 5 gold, and then Kord, Ham, and their cronies set off for the Howling Tower. Nothing molested them on the way out ("That's a first!" Kord exclaimed on arriving unscathed), and the party found themselves outside the tower on the spur of the ridge, but with the pyre that once held Begor's bones vastly expanded and filled with numerous smaller bodies. Goblin bodies, they figured on a brief inspection; then they headed into the tower.

To get to the stair, they had to go north and into Begor's old room. Then at the southwest door of that chamber they listened and heard goblin voices--Kord speaks goblin. The goblins were debating what they wanted to eat--"These rats are fat enough. Now let's get some cheese." "Cheese? I want mutton!" "Well you know we don't have any ..."

Hoping for surprise, the party burst through the door, but the goblins were not surprised per se, so much as astonished, and we proceeded to roll initiative. A short fight ensued which involved some goblins running around the corner to seek reinforcement, but also a rat thrown by another desperate goblin straight at Ham, which dealt 1 damage as it scrabbled and bit at his face. The party cut down five of the six goblins, but one escaped to warn his comrades; as the party came around the corner, they found him rallying a crew from a further room.

Couldn't find much in the way of imagery for "rat-throwing"

Kord and his crew withdrew to set up a fighting line, and soon were engaged by eight fresh goblins. These fought for a round, losing only a couple goblins, and then began a fighting withdrawal back around the corner; Kord and crew stuck with them, pressing forward and maintaining the melee. Unfortunately, around the corner was an additional dozen or so goblins, including one which began to cast a spell. The goblins also had shortbows and other missile weapons, and with their overwhelming numbers they managed to quickly knock out both dogs (Orkie and Fang) and also to slay the mercenary Livy. Lysimmachus panicked with a bad morale roll and Kord and Ham elected to retreat alongside their comrade rather than face the goblins while outnumbered ten to one.

Because of the hallway's bend, fewer goblins got off missile attacks and so the remaining party members quickly escaped back the way they'd come and out the door. As they scrambled down the stair to the ridge on which the tower stands, the goblins boiled out behind, but hissed and scowled at the sun. They threw a few ineffectual missiles at the party, along with a great number of jeers, and then retreated back into the tower.

Licking their wounds, Kord and crew retreated to town (again, miraculously, without any attrition). There, they collected Kord's other two dogs, Kord bought some oil, and Lysimmachus agreed to accompany them again in hopes of retrieving Livy's body. On the second day back to the tower, I rolled a single attrition die; Kord's player suggested losing his rope, and I agreed that Lysimmachus had somehow misplaced his boss' 150' of rope.

Then on the fourth day they arrived back at the tower, with an eagle soaring among the clouds overhead. As they climbed the stair to enter the tower, they found a spear wedged outside the door with Livy's head impaled on it--Lysimmachus blanched as he failed morale, and I adjudicated that he would be at -1 on all rolls for the rest of the expedition.

Anyway, in they went. Heading up through Begor's old room and around the corners through the corridor, they encountered none of the goblins there previously; but at the door to the room with the stair down to the dungeon, Kord heard within several goblins discussing the best way to kidnap a child. Hoping to cut them all down quickly, they burst in the door; again, the goblins were not surprised, and we rolled initiative. There followed a three round slog of mostly misses, typical of first level encounters. Noise began to gather in the hallway behind, and then the same goblin horde as before came in through the door. The nameless mastiff was both cut down in this melee, as well as a number of goblins; and Kord, feeling hopeless of victory, ordered everyone down the stairs as quick as they might.

Lysimmachus was cut down as he attempted to retreat, but Kord, Ham, and Blade all made it down the stairs. As they went, Kord smashed several flasks of oil behind him and tossed his torch back to set it ablaze, and not a few goblins got hot feet for their close pursuit. With a moment of respite at the bottom of the stairs, Kord got himself oriented on the map and then sought out some southern burial niches he knew contained the secret door to the treasure horde. They passed through a room with an altar to a multi-armed goddess of darkness, a room which contained a couple desiccated husks of insectoid horrors formerly killed there.

Then, in one of the burial niches in the corridor beyond, Kord threw the catch and the stone wall ground back, revealing a narrow hall to the south which opened into a room after about thirty feet. Surmising that shadows require light to exist, Kord ordered Ham to stay back with his torch while he, Kord, went forward alone using his orcish infravision. Into the chamber he stepped--at its southern wall stood another idol of the multi-armed dervish goddess, surrounded by a veritable hoard of gold and other trinkets, while on her breast hung a carcanet of fine silver and gems. Kord went to work in the darkness, shoveling what he could into his own backpack and then into Ham's, and he never was bothered by any shadow or shade.

And then they were stumped. How to get out past all those goblins? Fortunately, at this point, Kord looked at his map, drawn on the last expedition, and pointed out a winding tunnel labeled "Up" just twenty feet from the secret door. "What does that mean?" he asked rhetorically (and the referee informed him that he would have to investigate to find out if he didn't remember). Investigate he did, and found a short tunnel that wound away up into darkness. A man could just wriggle through it if he could stomach the claustrophobia. Does it lead out? Is there any light? All he could see was the tunnel's darkness.

It was worth a try; otherwise there was a hoard of goblins to contend with. So, wriggling through miserable darkness, Kord and Ham and Blade found themselves first in a largish chamber filled with weird eggs and crawling things, but with a continuation of the tunnel; and then ultimately standing in sunlight on the slope of the spur some little way from the Howling Tower.

Needless to say, they hightailed it back to town.

Again, my dice were favorable; as Kord and Ham got to selling their loot, they found that it was probably the most valuable haul yet carried out of the dungeon. Each leveled up to second level; then, through carousing, leveled immediately up to third after that (even with Kord having to divide his XP equally between classes!).

Unfortunately for them, both being clerics of the Chaotic Good cult, Kord failed his save and had a "religious experience" of Evil, probably tempted into it by some evil genius (a spirit, not a comic book villain) whispering poison into the ears of Good characters around Brakeridge; and Ham failing his save as well, and rolling "blaspheme the gods" was clearly talked into some kind of blasphemous deed by Kord in his evil mood. So both are under the Ban of the Good cult and neither can cast cleric spells again until they atone for their evil deeds.

And still, the kidnapped children remain unrescued and somewhere unknown ...

------

Remembrance for the Fallen
Lysimmachus (normal man), a nameless mastiff, Livy (normal man), Orkie (orc mastiff), Fang (boar hound), Droopy and Snoopy (mastiffs), Dream Destroyer (ghost hound), Arrow (pack dog), Freyja (normal woman), a nameless cur, Hot Dog and Cross (mastiffs), Orion II (lion dog), Bacon (boar hound), Tore (half-orc fighter 1/cleric 1), Jimmy the Snitch (dog), Orion (lion dog), Harambe (man-ape 1)

And for those Enchanted Away
Dol (fyrdman hireling)

Are Goblins Just the Worst?

On Monday, Kotaku published an article by Cecilia D'Anastasio entitled, "Goblin Fights In D&D Are The Worst," in which the author argues just that--that in D&D, goblins are just low-level mooks arrayed before low-level characters just so that the characters/players can have what is essentially a no-risk fight and means of gaining experience: "Repeat [to hit rolls] ad nauseum until, huzzah!, the goblins have died. Your dungeon master ... informs you that you have been awarded some experience points. Your party licks their wounds and continues on their journey."

She claims that these goblin fights are boring, standing as stagnant interludes between moments of what the game is really about, i.e. (asking ironically), "How am I supposed to break up long periods of players developing their characters, puzzle-solving, discovering lore and fighting magical monsters?" It's strange to me that D'Anastasio doesn't see that goblins are magical monsters, and doesn't conceive of the possibility that the presence of goblins and whether they fight might be a means of puzzle-solving ...

My attention to this article was directed by David Rollins at blog Searching for Magic in his post "The Ecology of My Goblins or, How to Make Goblins Fun!" He takes issue with D'Anastasio's characterization of goblins, and I agree wholeheartedly with his rebuttal.

...
But I must admit--I do actually agree with D'Anastasio to a large degree. Battles without stakes are boring, and I don't play D&D just for the visceral joy of seeing dice roll across the table--I play for the visceral joy that a character's survival depends on that die roll! If goblins are being used by a referee just to be a no-risk fight, and I'm forced to slog through every round of it, and the goblins fight to the death, and none of it matters, I tune out. I've played in games like this; I played in a Pathfinder game where my paladin was blinded, but I refused the possibility to have him cured and had him run into the vanguard of every fight against Orcs just to test how far the referee would bend the rules not to kill him (he survived every fight; the absurdity was the only reason I was entertained).

This article piqued my interest because the last two games I've run in my Greyhame Dungeon Game have both involved goblins (Expedition 16 and Expedition 17; I haven't yet written up the latter). Expedition 16 involved what was basically a massacre of goblins; the characters entered the dungeon with a veritable army of wardogs and hirelings, and all together slaughtered some thirty goblins--but this was not "I miss," "I hit," "I miss," "I hit," ad nauseum, this was a running battle with groups of goblins panicking from bad morale rolls, running to the next goblin post for reinforcements, and/or going through side corridors in attempts to outflank the party. Nothing worked--the goblins were just too weak.

Expedition 17, meanwhile, involved only a couple of characters and their few hirelings and wardogs. During their first entrance into the dungeon, the party was overwhelmed by a large number of goblins, and after both dogs and one of the hirelings were killed, the party had to retreat. Outside the dungeon, they regrouped with a couple more dogs; then, going back into the dungeon, they were ambushed by the same large force of goblins. Another dog and the other hireling were killed, and it looked like the survivors would soon be goblin-arrow pincushions; but to my surprise, the two characters and their last dog fled downstairs to the next level of the dungeon, only escaping by lighting oil on fire behind them on the stair. After that, it was only by good luck that they found another exit from the dungeon so that they didn't have to face the goblins again.

I recite these examples as clear counterexamples to D'Anastasio's claim that goblin-fights are the worst. Both of these games were exciting--for different reasons!--and both involved goblins.

a couple of Free Goblins

So I agree with D'Anastasio in a general way that pointless fights are boring--but on the point of goblins I completely disagree, because the presence of goblins do not a pointless fight make. Goblins can be as boring as the Orcs that my blind paladin fought in that Pathfinder game, or as interesting as Rollins' weird hive-goblins, Jeff Rients' goblins with their goblin-doors (I keep forgetting to use these), or my own goblins who are certainly easily routed cowards, but who can also overwhelm and kill foolhardy adventurers (and they can cast magic and do other things too ...).

The relevant question to ask is not "Are there goblins?" but "Why are there goblins?" If the answer to the why of goblins is just to have no-risk fights for low-level characters, then fighting them is bound to become boring (but honestly, if that's the goblins' only point, if you're playing D&D, the game of tactical infinity, why don't you avoid fighting the goblins?).

What if the goblins are the type that steal children, and the fight
against the goblins determines whether you save the kids or not?

But in my game (and in Rollins' game, and in Rients' game, etc. etc.) goblins have probably been chosen because they specifically interest the referee. I know in my game, that's the case. I use goblins for a variety of reasons: goblins kidnap children (adventure hook--save the children!); goblins are the friends of wolves and werewolves (another hook in the monsters they associate with); goblins are either the slaves of Elves (and maybe sympathetic to the PCs?), or Free Goblins (both a player class, and a further adventure hook in that goblins hate Elves); higher level goblins cast weird magic (including goblin doors, probably); goblin kings are strange and powerful and as beautiful as Elves (or at least David Bowie); and let's be honest, fighting goblins in an old school game where a referee is willing to see characters die is just not boring!

the Goblin King

Goblins are great! Use them, please, in great numbers and in great varieties. Make them interesting, and make sure interactions with them (fights and otherwise) matter.

Goblins are incredibly versatile monsters, by the way; I've seen lots of different goblins in modules, including fungus-goblins (Tomb of the Serpent Kings) and blue goblins (Mortzengursturm the Mad Manticore of the Prismatic Peak) and Batiri jungle goblins (Tomb of Annihilation); and don't forget the goblins of other media, especially Labyrinth, and even Blix from Legend.

Gnolls: Followers of the Phallus

In the dark of a catacombs in deepest night one might hear them: laughing wildly, raucously, yellow eyes flashing in the night, teeth cracking and grinding the bones of the dead. The gnolls have gathered for a feast of bones, and only the stalwart or the foolhardy can hear their weird laughter without the catch of terror in his heart.

(those who hear the "laughter" of gnolls must make a morale check, results appropriate to the situation--i.e. panic and flee if in combat, or become shaken and suffering -1 to all rolls, etc.)

Slaughtered animals lie in the fields, killed for sport and stinking of blood, but otherwise untouched; meanwhile, the gnolls that hunted, killed, and ignored them gather now in the graveyards of other races, digging up bodies long dead to crush the bones of corpses between their teeth. Laughing and hyena-headed, gnolls are creatures of perversity, servants of Evil who make a mockery of every philosophy and religion.

My first D&D book was the 2e Monstrous Manual, whence
this image is take; it's still my favorite depiction of a gnoll

------

As scavengers, gnolls prefer to eat that which is already dead. They kill for sport, but prefer to eat that which is long dead, or which is killed by the hands of another. To this end, they prefer corpses dug up from necropolises and graveyards (which they can easily crush between their teeth, and which provide the added pleasure of enraging certain sects who believe that the buried dead are sacrosant); OR to eat of flesh killed by the hands of the slaves they keep--and because a slave killed it, the gnoll is glad to "scavenge" it by bullying the slave into surrendering the kill.

Gnolls draw dicks on everything ... and then build dick-idols!

Gnolls' obsession with phalluses is well recorded. Certain scholars identify their main deity as Priapus, god of fertility and sexuality, traditionally depicted with an enormous erection; but this identification is weak at best, as the erection-wielding deity of the gnolls is generally androgynous, or perhaps indeed a goddess with an enormous phallus--or literally just an enormous phallus without other context, probably carved of appropriately-shaped hardwood. Not that identification of a gnoll's sex is easy--many sources attest that every single gnoll is male and that the specie's propagation is a mystery, while other scholars argue that female gnolls are actually possessed of a huge clitoral pseudo-penis, generally functional as both a male and female organ.

On the left, a hyena penis; on the right, a hyena female's pseudo-penis

Because every member (ahem) of the species possesses a significant erectile organ, the gnolls' obsession with phallic art is perhaps understandable. Wherever gnolls gather, phallic graffiti will adorn the walls, and altars will be raised before idols either bearing huge erections, or seeming merely to be erect phalluses themselves. Native gnollish religious rites involve feast-orgies in which the strong bully the weak into feeding and sexually pleasuring them; and among those tribes which have large contingents of Lawful or Good slaves, gnolls tend to take a perverse pleasure in mocking the rites of those religions, especially by dressing up a donkey in a priest's robes (calling it a "priest-ass" if they have any sense of the Common language and the nature of puns), and forcing all to do obeisance to it as it brays the eternal "Yee-AH! Yee-Ah!" (check out Nietzsche's Thus Spake Zarathustra for the joke ...)

Seeing this mockery of Lawful and Good religious rites, presided over by an ass, the gnolls fall among themselves laughing horribly into the night. They demand ever more elaborate "rites" and protestations of faith from the slaves/prisoners they wish to abuse by forcing them to take part in these abominations of religious ritual; whether the "rites" end up killing the slave(s), or the gnolls find the joke good enough to spare their slave(s) for the night is up to the whim of the gnolls and whether they can control themselves amidst their fits of laughter. (Once the mockery gets going and the gnolls begin really to laugh themselves wild, they should make a saving throw against paralysis at +2 each round to act; otherwise they continue to laugh uproariously, pounding the ground in their perverse mirth, though still able to defend themselves ably if attacked).

Encounters in Chult -- Non-Monster Encounters

In Tomb of Annihilation, "While characters are exploring or camping in the wilderness, roll a d20 three times per day of game time, checking for encounters each morning, afternoon, and evening or night. An encounter occurs on a roll of 16 or higher." (Tomb of Annihilation, pg. 193)

On the result of an encounter (16-20), one is then directed to roll percentile dice on the "Wilderness Encounters" table on the next pages (194-5), which includes columns for different terrain types, including Beach, several types of Jungle, Mountains, Rivers, Ruins, Swamp, and Wasteland. These different terrains have different values for the various creatures that haunt Chult and its environs--but almost every entry is a creature of some kind, implying combat (6 out of 90 entries are with non-creatures, while at least half a dozen more are with neutral or friendly NPCs).

There follows a description of each encounter in pages 196-203, of the number of creatures or the nature of the non-creature thing found. These are generally good entries, though I find it irritating how many of them coyly resolve into non-encounters if the players don't provoke the creatures, e.g. of the dinosaurs, the Ankylosaurus, Brontosaurus, Hadrosaurus, Pteranodon, Stegosaurus, and Triceratops all ignore the characters unless attacked, touched, or bothered. And these aren't the only entries like that. Which is to say, if I roll an 18 on my d20 and then a triceratops encounter, inform the players, and then they walk away, nothing happens ... over the course of hundreds of hexes of travel this will become dozens of dice rolls to nothing, sapping my time and my players' interest.

All of which is a longwinded way of saying, these wilderness encounters need sprucing up!

First, because it seems to me that travel should involve a variety of mishaps/encounters not necessarily all of which involve creatures, I'd like to rewrite a table of non-monster wilderness occurrences that I use for wilderness travel in my homebrew game. (other blog-entries may include creating more specific wilderness terrains and resulting encounter tables, and/or nesting the results on the ToA tables with greater random variety)

"I hope we don't run into any mouth dragons out here ..."

So, per the rules, per day that the characters spend in the wilderness, roll three d20s. A result of a 16-20 indicates an encounter; the first and last such rolls indicate an encounter on the "Wilderness Encounters" table from the book, but the second/middle roll indicates a further roll on this table:

------

Non-Monster Wilderness Encounters

1-3 -- Bad weather -- half movement for the next 1-6 days

4-5 -- Lamed mule/Sprained ankle -- cannot move forward until the injury is healed, either by magic or by 1-3 days of rest

6-7 -- Spoiled rations -- 1-2 weeks of rations are spoiled by mold, maggots, etc.

8 -- Lost supplies -- the party loses ... 1) 50' rope, 2) 100-600 gp, 3) 1 week of rations,
4) tinderbox, 5) lantern and 1-4 flasks of oil OR 2-12 torches, 6) 50' rope and roll again ((or one useful item at random))

9-10 -- Heatstroke -- a character at random is incapacitated and cannot act until they take a full day of rest

11-12 -- Wrong turn -- not lost per se, but no movement for the day as all "progress" must be retraced back in the proper direction

13 -- Venomous bite -- a character at random must save against poison or using CON, or die; neutralize poison or other such spells would naturally be handy in such a situation

14 -- Diseased bite -- a character at random must save against poison or using CON, or become infected with a debilitating disease; the character loses 1 STR per day of travel, and a week of full rest is required to overcome the disease; during the "crisis" another save v. poison or with CON is required, and failure indicates that 1 point of CON is permanently lost

15-16 -- Good foraging/hunting -- no rations are needed for the day due to plentiful game/forage

17-18 -- Bad water -- 1-3 characters must save against poison or using CON, or contract a debilitating disease per (14)

19-20 -- Physical Barrier -- the party has hiked into a box canyon, cul de sac, bog, mire, etc. etc., and must backtrack; no movement unless a thief with ropes climbs a way through, or a druid demonstrates a path, or some other rule or narrative is invoked by the player characters to pass through

Greyhame Mountain Dungeon Expedition 16

Orcs have returned the caverns of the Glimmervaults;
the Goblin King and the Lord of Werewolves have renewed their ancient alliance beneath the Howling Tower;
and the secret treasury of the ancient Bronding Kings is said to lie behind the Brokenbrand Falls, haunted by enchanting naiads ...
...
Jaer the Windlord looks down on the world below from the Eyries of the Eagles on Greyhame Mountain itself;
and the Stars themselves are singing an eerie song, night after night ...


15 January's roster:
Aethelfulf (paladin 2)
with Dream Destroyer (ghost hound), Hauka (weasel), and Yulan (warhorse)
Baby Face (thief 5)
with Whesker, Wilmerand (weasels), Hubert and Frida (normal men), and a nameless St. Bernard
Little Bob (traveling-man 4)
with Marlo and Panzer (dogs), and Rolf Rolfson (normal man)
Blackleaf (Elf 2) with Droopy and Snoopy (mastiffs), and Johann Haybaler (normal man)
Koko (woman-ape 1)


Starting off in town, a ghost pepper and a killer bee honeycomb were available for purchase, and Baby Face bought both immediately. The ghost pepper is purported to allow connection to the spirit world somehow ... and as for the killer bee honeycomb, killer bee honey is well known for its healing properties when eaten, and so the honeycomb should cure a wound or so.

Blackleaf, meanwhile, is still interested in acquiring a soul, and doing so by converting her current squeeze, Aldir the blacksmith, to Good alignment, and then somehow getting him to marry her (the legend is that an Elf who marries a Good mortal will, by the union of their flesh, acquire a soul that understands Good and Evil). To this end, Blackleaf turned to Aethelwulf (Lawful Good servant of Adonai, god of justice) to get him to go convert Aldir; and Aethelwulf may be a dullard (low Int and Wis), but he's the very image of an heroic fighting-man, and when he was like, "Maybe you should think about being Good, Aldir," sans any real argument, nevertheless the blacksmith was like, "Yeah, maybe I should if I want to be a hero like you!"

Now, following the botched heist in the dungeons of Oakridge Castle, Rendorsheeg the Elf and Finbar the half-Elf druid have skipped town--Rendorsheeg blew money on a bender after being freed and immediately ran afoul of the law again, i.e. the guard sent forth from the castle, and so he and his brother-in-law, Finbar, fled town and won't be seen in Brakeridge again for some time. A number of men-at-arms loyal to the former lord were also set free by the party during the break-in, and have now fled into the forest to the north and west, there to act as Robin Hood type bandits; and Morholt has decreed hundreds of gold in bounties for the heads of these men. Beyond that, Morholt is seeking around to hire more guards, and has allowed his men more leeway in the vicious treatment of locals, especially as they seek the perpetrators of the break-in.

Furthermore, disappearances of children have increased dramatically in recent weeks. These disappearances have been blamed on goblins and on wolves and werewolves--often, wolf-prints are found outside the windows of children's rooms, or small goblin-sized prints and strange lingering magic lead away from the house into the wilderness. In the past three months or so there were perhaps a dozen such disappearances--but in the last two or three weeks there have been a dozen again.

So, hearing this about the disappearing children, the party elected to seek out the Howling Tower and try to find and free the children, if possible, especially because of the prompting of Aethelwulf to do so.

On the third day out, a terrible storm blew up, causing six attrition-dice--the party lost ammunition, an axe, a shield, a suit of plate armor, a week of rations, and Baby Face took 1 damage from exposure.

Then they arrived at the tower. It no longer howls, as the haunting spirit has been destroyed, but it stands like a lonely spike on the spur of a ridge descending from the slopes of the Greyhame Mountain. Before it stands a pyre where the bones of old Begor the ogre and his two wolves were burned, presumably by the goblins, but nothing else was outside the tower to disturb the party.

So they entered, climbing the short stair to the entrance, and listening there at the door--and lo! Blackleaf heard the chattering of goblins on the other side. Bursting in the door, the party surprised the goblins; Blackleaf cast sleep over them, and Little Bob ineffectually attempted to restrain and win the affiliation of the single wolf accompanying the goblins. The wolf reacted poorly, and was ultimately put down; as for the goblins, they were slaughtered, all except one kept alive for questioning ... but when his answers failed to provide much information other than that the Goblin King resides below (which the party already knew), they killed him too.

This was just the beginning of what became a great goblin massacre ... Entering the tower proper, the party turned north to the door into what were once Begor's quarters, through which one must pass to get to the hallway that leads to the stair room. My notes are extremely patchy at this point ... just runs of numbered goblins, their hitpoints, many scratched out as dead, others unwounded because they broke morale and fled. While carousing later, back in town, Blackleaf and Baby Face describe a fight through goblin guards and down to the first level of the dungeon proper, goblins that kept calling replacements or retreating to another room where more goblins and wolves were, only to be slaughtered even as they attempted to outflank the characters ... At least thirty goblins and a few wolves were slain altogether, and from that point on the goblins in the dungeon were too cowed to put up resistance. The party also found a decent horde in the goblins' main sleeping chamber, including a large number of electrum and copper coins.

Leaving the slain goblins in their large sleeping-chamber, the party set out to the west to do some exploring and discovered a room with a central statue of Astora, Star Queen of the Elves, with four pillars around her, each representing one of the seasons. A sacrificial tripod stood before the summer-pillar with incense-ashes, and because it was made of silver and gold, the characters naturally snagged it. It was noted strange that the statue of Astora-- an Elf --was not defaced in any way.

Other explored rooms included a large pillared hall with old and tattered tapestries depicting great hunts and depictions of old meetings between Men and Elves; and another room was a great audience hall with a throne on an eastern dais facing a horsehoe of benches arranged beneath the throne to be addressed from thence.

The party then explored a long hallway with a number of tombs off the eastern wall. The southernmost room contained stand-up sarcophagi from which skeletons issued when the tomb was disturbed; these were easily dispatched. Otherwise the room was empty, except for the noted fact that the central sarcophagus was depicted with an image of the World-Tree with its roots gnawed by an ancient Serpent. Aethelwulf felt that it was familiar, but couldn't place it.

Other tombs included further encounters with skeletons and a smattering of valuable grave goods; and the last sarcophagi that they investigated belched forth clouds of yellow spores!

Cover your mouth and don't touch it!

A number of party members breathed in the dreaded cloud and began to choke, as well as many of their dogs. The rules for yellow mold indicated that it takes 6 rounds before affected characters die, and so I allowed various frantic efforts to save the poisoned few--and with a variety of heimlich maneuvers, choking back water, etc., all the characters managed to make a second saving throw. Not so for the dogs, alas, and Snoopy, Droopy, and Dream Destroyer all succumbed to choking death.

At this point, the party agreed to cut losses and return to town. They exited the dungeon without incident; on the return trip, they had an encounter with 6 attrition dice, which I informed them meant that they had been ambushed by a party of goblins seeking revenge. They elected to break a suit of armor, a shield, a spear, and lose a week of rations; then Baby Face turned to his Ring of Unseen Servant which he bought a few sessions ago and called for the servant to, "Do something!" And indeed it proceeded to summon up a whirlwind that scattered the goblins, sending not a few bodily into the trunks of trees. This is, of course, not something an unseen servant ought to have any power to do at all; the party surmised that perhaps it had some special hatred for goblins.

Back in town, the party divided up their loot, but only Blackleaf and Baby Face elected to carouse after their success. Blackleaf got puking drunk and managed to blaspheme the Arcane mysteries, drunkenly blabbing secrets that only the initiated to know to just any old peasant at the bar. For this, she is under the Ban, and may not benefit from her Arcane alignment until such time as she somehow atones for it.

Baby Face, meanwhile, became even more the love of the town and the life of the party, and because of all the hangers-on and groupies who gather around him when he drinks and tells his tales of daring-do, his carousing costs are now x3, i.e. he spends 300 gold for 100 xp. Needless to say, he has become even more leery of drinking in public. His player also actually read some of my notes and wondered if Baby Face should not now be of the Second Rank of Chaotic alignment because of how much fame he has accrued? I agreed that should be the case, and now need to find my notes about what that means ...

All in all a successful expedition--but alas, the children remain missing ...

------

Remembrance for the Fallen
Snoopy and Droopy (mastiffs), Dream Destroyer (ghost hound), Arrow (pack dog), Freyja (normal woman), a nameless cur, Hot Dog (mastiff), Cross (mastiff), Orion II (lion dog), Bacon (boar hound), Tore (half-orc fighter 1/cleric 1), Jimmy the Snitch (dog), Orion (lion dog), Harambe (man-ape 1)

And for those Enchanted Away
Dol (fyrdman hireling)

Jungles of Chult Session 1

I started a new in-person game of 5e D&D with my friends this last Saturday, 13 January, in which I will run WotC's Tomb of Annihilation (2017) approximately every other Saturday, while my friend continues running his dungeon on the "off" weekends. So why not title this post "Tomb of Annihilation"? Because I decided to de-emphasize the Tomb's centrality to the game, and focus rather on the jungle hexcrawl--because that part of the book hooked my interest, while not so much the eponymous tomb.

Because there are only three players, I allowed each to create two characters, and further requested that half the characters be rolled according to +Anders H's "Into the Unknown" a B/X hack of 5e so that we can help playtest the rules (and also because I'm probably just going to run the game like B/X anyway, so it's nice to have a ruleset that backs me up on it). I'd already informed everyone that I'd be changing the XP tables, so they were down with "Into the Unknown" characters too ...


so, our intrepid adventurers:
Sound of Distant Rain (cat-man rogue)
Terahn Atzi (human priest)
Nigiri (lizardman monk)
Takashi Akaga (human magic-user and gourmand)
Nebin (halfling barbarian)
Chiratidzo (human druid)


We started in Port Nyzanzaru somewhat "fresh off the boat" (Chira and Terahn are both Chultan natives, but not well-traveled), and I dropped an info dump on everyone to introduce the game: Chult is a land where death is permanent, regardless of magic--not even a wish spell can revive a slain character within the bounds of Chult. This has been the case for several generations now, and those who were rich enough and unwilling to live in a land where death was permanent left for other shores when the "death curse" first fell upon the land, but people have been living their lives normally since. No one knows whence this curse has come, but it has lain over the land for some time. (those who are familiar with the adventure will note that I significantly altered the facts here, to de-emphasize the curse as a worldwide "time bomb" and allow more emphasis on hexcrawling)

I also outlined the history of Chult and the war between the city of Mezro and the Eshowe, the rise of Ras Nsi as a lord of undead, and the fact that a dragon turtle called Aremag extorts treasure from ships passing in and out of the Bay of Chult.

And so what were our characters interested in doing? They looked over the hex map I gave them, wondering at all the empty hexes they could explore--but their chief priority was, as players of D&D, to secure some quick money before committing to anything major.

Using his "highborn" background, Terahn secured an audience with one of the local merchant-lords, one Jessamine, who was rumored to be interested in buying certain flora from the jungle. Jessamine appeared in the courtyard of her villa silently in the midst of the characters, and then proceeded to answer their questions about valuable flora by pointing out that senda berries and wildroot are both particularly valuable to her, and there are a few other rare plants that she would pay for.

The party was glad to know this ... hearing that another merchant-lord, one Jobal, was an outfitter maintaining a stable of jungle guides, they next sought him out and managed to secure an audience with him as well. His villa was filled with trophies of the animals he had hunted and killed, and he immediately hit it off with Chira, not only because Chira was guzzling the proffered palm wine, but also because Chira is a druid and a man of the wilderness. After a few stories about the animals killed (including a "mouth dragon"), Jobal turned to business and counted off a number of guides whose services he could recommend (including a tabaxi pair he is not supposed to recommend--typo number one!--I corrected it later)--but when the party revealed that they did not have the requisite funds for 5 gp/day, 30 day upfront payment (150 gp), the wine stopped flowing. "Come back when you have some coin!" Jobal told them as he sent them out (though not unkindly).

A mouth-dragon pursuing a shield-head

Now especially in need of funds, the party asked around for quick money and heard that the Flaming Fist regularly supplies Fort Beluarian, a Flaming Fist encampment on the peninsula northwest of Nyanzaru. Rowed galleys carry the supplies across the Bay of Chult to the Fort, and then carry ingots from the mines above the Fort back to Nyanzaru, and the galleys require both rowers and guards/porters out and back. Odo, quartermaster of the Flaming Fist in Nyanzaru, was approached by Sound of Distant Rain, and offered him and his associates 3 gp/day to act as guards and porters on the next galley.

The galley set out the next dawn; because it wasn't leaving/entering the Bay, it would not be subject to the extortions of Aremag. The first leg of the trip was a short jaunt to a camp on a peninsula halfway between Nyanzaru and the beachhead below Beluarian; on the second day the galley arrived at the beachhead and the supplies were offloaded from the ship; on the third day, the supplies were ported up a path to the Fort itself. The fourth day was slated as a day of rest, and then the last three days of the trip would mirror the first three.

The only encounter seen by the characters on the way out was a flock of scintillating snakes flying through the trees near the beach on the first day.

At Fort Beluarian, after all the porting was done, the characters could rest; Sound elected to gamble with the soldiers of the Flaming Fist (against regulations, but under the noses of their superiors) and won 20 gp after staking a mere 10 gp to start. Nigiri, meanwhile (the lizardman) went forth from the fort and hunted down some local iguanas, herbs, etc., and in-fort cooked up a mouthwatering meal that gathered a number of Flaming Fist soldiers to ask for a portion (they had to jockey with Takasha, the gourmand magic-user who follows Nigiri specifically for his lizardman-cooking).

Grilled iguanas ... yum!

The Flaming Fist soldiers then laid out chests of iron and copper ingots stamped with the seal of the Fist, all of which were ported back down to the beachhead and loaded onto the ship; and then the galley set out back for Nyanzaru the next dawn.

On the first day to the halfway peninsula, the ship was buzzed by a flock of pteranodons which ultimately left the galley alone; then later in the day, a band of aarakocra (bird-men) appeared over the galley. These aarakocra were invited down by the characters, and relayed to the party that an injured comrade of theirs was on a beach nearby, having been wounded in a scuffle with lizardmen. The characters arranged for the aarakocra to carry their companion to the ship, there to be healed by a use of cure light wounds; and when this aarakocra was healed by Terahn, she told the players that her name was Skir of the Kaaraa Eyrie, and she presented Terahn with her javelin and one of her pinion feathers as tokens of friendship.

Then, on the third day, early in the morning on the beach, the characters were awakened by one of the ship's rowers, one Osuware. "Quickly!" he whispered, pointing to the treeline and to a flock of iridescent snakes basking in the morning sun in the trees. "Let us take the serpents, and we can sell them back in Nyanzaru!" Most of the party followed; they watched Osuware stuff a serpent into a sack, and then Takasha cast sleep over the rest of the nine snakes; he then demanded that he receive two of the snakes for Nigiri to cook up for him, while the other eight can be sold, and the party reluctantly agreed.

So, back in town, Osuware guided the party to the villa of Ifan Tal'Roa, another merchant lord. This Ifan is a great seller of animals, beasts, etc. both as beasts of burden and as creatures bound for gladiatorial games, and he was glad to receive a party attempting to sell him flying snakes. He first offered 25 gp per snake, which Osuware was over-eager to take, and so Sound talked Ifan up to 30 gp per snake. Osuware was glad for it, and, being bad at math, agreed to take 40 gp while the party split the other 200. Ifan advised the party to look out for other beasts in the jungles that he would be glad to buy.

The party then returned to Jobal to get his take on jungle guides; and despite his excessive friendliness now that they were in some money, and despite his protestations not to seek out his former employees River Mist and Flask of Wine, a couple of tabaxi (cat-man) guides who had just broken with him, the party of course, sought out River and Flask. These two agreed to guide the party for a lesser sum of 4 gp/day, with no upfront payment (but they would be glad for a cut of treasure after the fact!). Moreover, they are familiar with the jungle around the River Tiryki, and with two landmarks, one Firefinger (a spire with a ptera-folk tribe) and the other Dungrunglung (a shrine-city of grung frog-men).

River Mist has the eyepatch; her brother is Flask of Wine

The party then needed to actually plan their first expedition into the jungles, and ultimately decided to abandon their first plan to seek Camp Righteous and Camp Vengeance on the River Soshenstar, and to follow their guides up the Tiryki River. They bought a rowboat (50 gp) and several weeks of rations, but were confident in their own ability to forage in the jungle for food (and they agreed beforehand to boil their water). Round trip, this expedition is expected to last something like 70 days, most of it the trip there and back, but with a week at the head of the river for in-depth exploration.

We got four days into this seventy day expedition before it was 1:20 am and we needed to break for the night. Each hex on the map is 10 miles across; the travel rules in Tomb of Annihilation indicate that a party can travel 10 miles in one day, but I find that completely ridiculous for jungle travel; being generous, I cut that in half to 5 miles per day (I would have cut it further, following accounts I've read of jungle travel, but I still want this to be a game ...). I was many beers in at this point, and so didn't roll for the party getting lost, but I did roll all of the encounters for each day--and as a further modification to the rules, I'm going to devise another table of my own for non-creature "encounters" to roll on once each day, following other tables I've written for other hexcrawls I've run.

Nothing happened on the first day ... on the second day, the party was ambushed by a party of Batiri (jungle-goblins) as they traveled along the banks of the Tiryki. The goblins charged from the bush, but were repulsed by a concerted effort, and when the "boss" was slain, the Batiri rolled poorly on morale, panicked, and ran back into the jungle. From the corpse of the "boss", the party took up a painted mask they think could be worth something back in town, and then they continued on their way south.

On the third day, the party came across a shield-head (or "ytepka" or "three-horns") grazing alone in a meadow not far from the banks of the river. River and Flask were enamored of it, trying to get the party to attack and subdue it so that they could lead it back to town to sell to Ifan Tal'Roa--then they could sell the beast to him for a tidy profit (and only a few days out!) and then restart their expedition with even higher funds. Alas, the party balked at attacking such a large creature, and merely walked around it. Later that day, they provoked a troop of baboons, which attacked them, but were easily driven off with another poor morale roll for the creatures ...

One ornate species of shield-head

And on the fourth day, the party encountered a pair of giant spiders, easily dispatched without even the need for a morale roll--and this is where we quit for the night, as it was nigh 2 am and we were semi-incoherent.

So like I said, these encounters need to be spiced up with some non-monster "wilderness encounters" that will vary things beyond mere roleplaying/combat encounters (also, need some roleplaying encounters anyway). The book recommends rolling three times per day; I was thinking of rolling twice on the book's encounter table, and once on my own table each day. Ultimately, this would alter the checks from 3 encounter checks per 10 miles to 4 monster encounter checks and 2 non-monster encounter checks per 10 miles, so I don't feel like it's too much.


The next Chult game will probably be in about two weeks; I'll be sprucing up the hexmap in the meantime and probably sharing ideas and additions here--I admit, I just can't run an adventure/module without tinkering with a fair amount.

Session 25 of the Old Forest Keep Game

Session 25? Where are the other sessions? In my handwritten campaign notes ... this 25th session was the first online game I've run in this setting, and the first I'm recounting here. This may mean that I recount future sessions in this game here as well.

Anyway ...


The characters:
Magic Meryl  (random advancement halfling) and Galahad (orc mastiff)
Radmachar Whitebeard (cyborg pirate)
Rakka (orc muscle witch) and Amonsay the Immortal Constrictor (some kind of snake demon)
Gnarles Crackledust (gnome illusionist)
and a mad scientist and his lock-picking specialist (Chris P.)


In town, the characters gathered a little bit of information about the Cult of the White Dragon which presumably uses the dungeon under the Old Forest Keep as its base of operations for a campaign of brigandage, and Radmachar hired Manlius as a mercenary, while Magic Meryl hired Tiberius. Magic Meryl took on quartermaster duties and bought rations for everyone (the dungeon lies three to five days from town depending on my die rolls representing weather), and then the party set out through the woods toward the dungeon.

Some bad weather lengthened the travel time to five days altogether. Nothing happened for the first four days but rain, but on the fourth night, a group of giant ants marched right through the middle of the party's camp, carrying dead humans. Meryl cast sleep over the ants, and the party investigated the bodies, and found them to be dead bandits wearing white armbands, and a couple wearing cloak-pins in the shape of white dragons--these the party took, and then they slew the ants as they slept, and then continued their rest.

Then, on the fifth day, the party came into sight of the keep--which is not really a keep, as only the gatehouse remains standing, the old castle's curtain walls all thrown over and the actual keep having collapsed long ago. This keep was once a bastion of Law against the Chaotic Elves of the eastern Dwimmerholt forest, but has fallen into disrepair and been filled with Chaotic monsters and cultists. As the party approached the keep, a murder of crows rose up from the trees around them, alerting the orcish figures on the gatehouse top to their approach.

Before the orcs could send out a patrol, Gnarles Crackledust cast a spell of mass invisibility over the party (from a staff, I think), and then the party simply walked around the gatehouse to what was once "inside" the bailey, but which of course is now just open ground--from that side, they could see two doors, one entering the eastern tower of the gatehouse, the other into the western tower. So the party went to the first door and listened--and though they all failed to hear anything, Meryl's mastiff Galahad's hackles went up and he pointed at the door, indicating orcs on the other side (it was also at this point that we remembered that Rakka and Galahad probably wouldn't get along, she being an orc, he a mastiff bred and trained to hunt orcs).

Fortunately, the orcs had already passed on when the party opened the door; so they entered the dungeon and went through a first couple of rooms, one being merely a sleeping chamber with old pallets of straw that smelled of orc; and the other room containing a tapestry that divided the room in two. Chris P.'s character glanced around the tapestry to the other side and saw a large spider clinging to that side of the tapestry; Rakka decided that she would take the spider on with her fists, and just talk her way out of encounters with orcs the way she did in the Aesclepius-Apollo shrine.

So Rakka went around the tapestry and Anime Leap Attacked the spider, which does something like double or triple damage--the spider survived, though barely, and in its confusion at suddenly being attacked, its attempts to bite Rakka were erratic and ineffective, and so Rakka was able to destroy it by hammering further at its thorax with her fists. She then elected to take down the tapestry, intending to clean it up with magic in town later (the party left it rolled up in the room for the moment, as it was not a small tapestry).

At this point, Meryl recalled the trap door depicted on her map of the dungeon (it was an old map she acquired from Ligurias the Sage in town), and directed the party through several rooms toward it. They found the door locked, but Chris P.'s henchman easily picked the lock, and the door was opened to reveal four human prisoners in rather bad shape, emaciated and dirty. They were wondered at the door opening but "nothing" coming through, and then even more surprised to hear the invisible party promise them freedom. The prisoners hoped that meant they were leaving immediately, but the party told them they had to wait a little bit while the adventurers delved a little more.

So, a trapdoor was indeed found; and Galahad growled low as it was opened, indicating that there were orcs down the stairs below. It was agreed to send Rakka down to negotiate, and well beyond merely chatting the orcs up, she claimed to be the fleshly incarnation of Orcus (indicating to her invisible companions to pick things up and flash their lights up and down, etc. as demonstrations of her power). The six orc guards at the foot of the stair were not well convinced ("You don't look like Orcus," and, "She just looks like a girl,"), but ultimately bowed to her and agreed to her plan to show Rakka their king's chambers, to take his gold, and perhaps to kill him.

The orcs led the party north through some corridors and then pointed to a door--"There's the king's chambers," they said. "Well, open it!" Rakka replied. "We don't have the key," said the orcs, "but you're a god--why don't you open it?" And behold, the door was unlocked (Chris' henchman picked it invisibly), which thing wondered the orcs rather more.

Everyone piled in and started looting, mostly invisibly, and the party found a number of valuables--but as they looted, a commotion was heard at the door, and a half-orc woman with several ogrillon bodyguards was there, demanding, "What the hell is going on here?"

Rakka replied with her spiel of being Orcus incarnate, but this time piled it on with an ability from her class in which she can convince several creatures per level, once per session, of a lie of any magnitude. And behold, this half-orc priestess (Trapp is her name), fell on her face before the god-made-flesh. "How can we serve you, o! Orcus? Have you come to aid us in our efforts with the White Dragon Cult to waken the dragon sleeping in the pit of the dungeon? Can you not break the enchantment that keeps it slumbering, o! great Orcus?"

Rakka-cum-Orcus of course agreed that she was there to aid them, and would create a talisman to help waken the dragon, but that she required a great sacrifice of wealth and prisoners to increase her power. "Of course--we shall have a great sacrifice for you--I will gather the tribe, and tonight in the darkness we will slaughter our prisoners, drink wine, all in your honor, o! Orcus!" Trapp declared.

But Rakka replied that the sacrifice was required immediately; and so Trapp and her servants (and the other orcs, now swept up by Rakka's authority) gathered all the valuables they could in a short time, including Trapp's cosmetic box and rich furs from her own chambers, and also a huge pile of metal ingots that the orcs had found stockpiled in the dungeon when they moved in. All of this, and the human prisoners from above, were then gathered out in the courtyard above (with the orcs complaining a great deal about the sun and the sudden forced labor). As for the prisoners, Meryl had invisibly gone up to them when the party's plan had crystallized, and warned them that they should play along with much screaming, but not to worry, the party really was going to rescue them.

Everything gathered above, and probably half the orc-tribe standing in attendance, Rakka interrupted the setting up of an altar. "No, no," she declared, "no altar is needed--I will just open up a hole directly to my realm in Hell below!"

With that, Magic Meryl and Gnarles Crackledust both conjured illusions with phantasmal force, the gnome creating a vision of Hell's maw opening, while Meryl created an illusory demon, a huge orcish figure, tarred and feathered, to emerge and start "carrying off" the human prisoners and treasure (actually being taken up by invisible characters), while Amonsay revealed itself as well in all its vasty coils to awe the orcs, etc. A number of orcs complained that their hard earned treasure was being taken by a fraud god, but using a wand of lightning, Rakka fried a whole line of them and cowed the tribe into kowtowing submission.

Now, as for the treasure and prisoners--apparently Chris P.'s mad scientist has an armored hover SUV which he had neglected to tell the party about before trekking off through the woods on foot--but now he summoned it to their location in the old keep's bailey and all the loot was shoved onto it, followed by the quickly by the various members of the party, and then the whole lot of them flew off back to the city of Calpurnia in style.

Back in town, Rakka caroused (I think someone else did too? but Rakka was the only one who failed), and in her drunkenness and going on about her coup of the orcs with a clever lie about being Orcus, she finds herself enamored of a local fellow, one Titus Iulius, a hunter who can tell her much of the wonders of the wilderness (Rakka's life heretofore has been in a dungeon, so the outside world is all new to her). If she does not maintain this relationship, it will turn sour as Titus' sisters will spread evil rumors about the orc woman who seduced their brother.

Some Tribes of Chult

I'm about to start running Wizards of the Coasts' Tomb of Annihilation (2017) semi-weekly (my friend will continue running his homebrew dungeon for us every one Saturday, and I'll run ToA every other Saturday), but the Chult that's described seems so paltry (but far and away better than that piece of garbage FRM1: Jungles of Chult (1993) that I just read ...). One city and a couple forts, and that's it for the human inhabitants? That's all we get for a fantasy-Africa-themed setting?

My knowledge of medieval African civilization isn't great, but I'm going to need more than Port Nyanzaru to hold my interest in the setting, so I'm going to introduce a couple tribes who live in the hinterlands around the city right now, with the intent to fill in more as the sandbox picks up/focuses.

------

The Ido:

a northern alliance of tribes, the port of Nyanzaru was originally an Ido city--the Ido city, in fact, while the balance of the tribespeople lived in smaller towns in its hinterland, supplying the port with its foodstuffs and tradegoods. When the Omuans came northwest escaping the destruction of their kingdom, they coopted the city for themselves. The Ido still populate the hinterlands in well-regulated towns governed by Oloyas (chiefs), and also make up a large fraction of Nyanzaru's population--and are not entirely happy with being supplanted by the Omuan migration.

Among other things, the Ido are known for their excellent bronze work:

As excellent metalsmiths, they make fine swords, spearheads, shields, armor, etc. that are the envy of other tribes. Ido hunters are proud of their weapons and use them to bring down elephants and triceratopses, etc., the bodies of which are apportioned with the heart and the back right leg to the Oloya, the tusks, the liver, and the back left to the hunter-killer, and the rest of the animal split amongst the tribe/village.

It is the responsibility of the Oloyas to maintain watch on the coasts or on the jungle for pirates or undead or both (as the case may be), and to call up his warriors to deal with any trouble. These warriors include both foot and cavalry (horse- or dinosaur-mounted!).

The Turkana:

nomadic herders that follow their herds of zebu cattle, goats, or the smaller species of hadrasaur (the latter being nomadic only around large bodies of water, and being of tribes who do not consider fish taboo but willingly eat it). The tribes of the Turkana move with their animals, following good grazing, protecting their animals from predators and raiders and meanwhile partaking in raiding against antagonist tribes.

The various Turkana tribes maintain a sophisticated oral history of their mutual raids, antagonisms, and friendships; bloodfeuds are long remembered, but so are friendships, especially the close friendships between so-called "banter brothers". Men who are banter brothers may banter/insult/joke with each other as brothers may, regardless of the tribes each other belongs to ... there are oral epics detailing banter brothers bringing their tribes into friendship after centuries-long hatreds, but also tragedies of banter brothers driven to the bleakest ends of human emotion by the mutual hatreds of their tribes' larger wars.

Turkana tend to have little physical wealth other than their herds; their main possessions are their unique wrist-knives, the stools that they use both as seats and as head-rests, and the staves that they carry as walking- and beating-sticks.

The Turkana are great drinkers of palm-wine, which they must acquire by trade or by raid, being too nomadic to cultivate/brew it; in the stories, banter brothers are often born in the midst of a palm-wine drunk taken by an entire tribe while one of the banter brothers is a foreigner ...

The Ik:

semi-pastoral mountain-dwellers, the Ik grow what they can during the agricultural season (I need to figure out wet/dry seasons for a calendar in this setting ...) and supplement that with hunting and gathering, especially when they can't grow anything. They dwell on high plateaus and mountain crags in villages that are almost entirely woven together with stockades of tight-woven brambles containing family huts with individual courtyards. Such stockaded villages, built on secluded heights, make Ik villages fairly well defended against monstrous or human raiders--the only real terror are the flying pterafolk with whom the Ik compete in the heights, and against whose flying raids the stockades to little good.

The Ik are too disparate and semi-nomadic to have permanent villages or seats of power, but their homeland in the heights means that they have constant access to the caves and dark places under the thrust-up earth where strange things dwell. They have a great respect for serpents and other chthonic spirits, and their alliance of tribes maintains a number of permanent oracles and pythonesses who live within the caves close to the underworld spirits, whom the Ik (and other peoples) may approach when in need of a better understanding of the turnings of the spirit world.

The Ik also have a great respect for blacksmiths--esp. those of the Ido, or the Albino Dwarves--and will seek such folk out for certain spiritual affairs.

------

The Turkana and the Ik are modern tribes, not medieval ... like I said, my knowledge is lacking and based on what little I've read. Would that it were more! (and I ultimately intend it to be)

This post is sparser than I intended, but as a mere starter I hope to develop more as the players head out into Chult at large and run into villages, herds, townships, etc., etc.

the Cult of the White Dragon

"... Two or three years ago it was just another snake cult ..."
(a black lotus peddler telling of the cult of Set to Conan and Subotai, in Conan (1982))

Two or three years ago, the Cult of the White Dragon was just another dragon cult trying to worm its way into the territory of Calpurnia, one of the great trade cities in the middle stretch of the King's Highway. Dragon cults are always popular with Chaotics--the Cult of the Black Dragon, the Cult of the Gold Dragon, the Fighting Society of the Red Dragon, the Followers of the River Dragon, the Storm Dragon, etc. etc. Sure, the Giants are the sons of Chaos, ever warring against the Gods of Law in the great battles of heaven--but Dragons are Chaos. Tiamat whose womb is the salt-sea, Echidna the mother of monsters, Nidhogg gnawing at the world's roots ...

And what vision better sums up the glories of Chaos than the Dragon, vast and beautiful and invincible, coiled around a gleaming hoard that could ransom kingdoms?

Anyway, these Cultists of the White Dragon sought to take advantage of the rising of Chaos in the world--as the Elves put out their strength from the Dwimmerholt, as the Giants come down from the mountains to the north, and as the Dread Wolves of Drand are heard to howl again, so too, men have turned to the promises of Dragons and Dragon-Gods that to serve them is the means to wealth and power. With whispers of power, they gathered a Cult-following from among the disaffected and the adventurous in Calpurnia, and established a secret strong place in the woods to the north wherein to worship, and from whence they began a campaign of brigandage and raiding.

Because of their brazenness, the Cult was easily discovered in their secret place by scouts sent out by the city, and then Calpurnia's senate hired and outfitted a force of mercenary fighting-men who were thence dispatched to root out and destroy the Cult. The mercenaries routed the Cult in battle and claimed much treasure that had been taken through brigandage as their right of plunder (much to the merchant princes' displeasure), but the Cult of the White Dragon was largely thought to have been destroyed by this action, and much energy was then wasted on lawsuits between merchants, senators, and fighting-men all clamoring for their proper shares.

Some time passed; banditry continued along the northern roads, sometimes perpetrated by human brigands, sometimes by orc warbands; and then about a year and a half ago, a band of adventurers ventured into the Old Forest Keep northeast of Calpurnia and returned much the richer, claiming to have found a new White Dragon Cult, but to have wiped it out. This rumor was quickly quashed, however, as the band's continued expeditions into the Keep continued to run into groups of fighting-men and priests wearing conspicuous white armbands or intricate insignia of a white worm ... all the while, banditry has continued to increase along the northern road until it is impossible for trade to continue by independent wagoner, except at great risk--all trade along the King's Highway north is now conducted in large caravans guarded by veritable armies of guards--and still, many merchants come away ruined, their fortunes looted by brigands!

And so it seems, the Cult continues to grow in secret, in the dark places under the earth.

------

As to the god of the White Dragon Cult, they worship Leukeragz-Who-Sleeps, the White Worm, the World Serpent, less a literal dragon in the world than a literary dragon, or a mythical one (or mytho-typical). This worm is said to slumber in the roots of the world, or perhaps along the floor of world-circling Ocean, and that his waking will be death--the Gods will be overthrown, and the Giants, and all Creation itself; but in his own death, slain in the struggle against the Gods, Leukeragz's flesh will split and corrupt and a new world will spring from its corruption.

These stories are well enough known through lays, poetry, and folklore that non-initiates recognize Leukeragz as the White Dragon worshiped by the Cult, but as to the meanings of the lore or the deeper mysteries of the cult (why would a cultist worship a dragon whose waking will destroy the world??)--one must be initiated into said mysteries to understand!