Following up on their re-explorations of the Howling Tower dungeons during expedition 86, the party attempts to clear goblins, wolves, and werewolves from the first level, discovers a mysterious stair down, and on the second level of the dungeon, claimed the treasure previously barred to them on the belly of the black dragon statue ...
28 March's roster:
Koko (woman-ape)
Clark (would-be paladin)
Lucky-Bob (travelling man)
Blackleaf, Merlin, and Mizer (magic-users)
Coball, Thaddeus, and Rolf Rolfson (clerics)
and Tiwo (Getae thief)
Before setting out once more for the dungeon-complex under the Greyhame Mountain, some rumor-mongering: First, the party hears about the appearance in town of Drang the goblin, his Elfin associate Stormy, and their entourage of ogre-servants. These individuals have taken up semi-permanent rooms at the Black Dragon's Mede, a local inn-and-tavern, and seem to be in the business of offering adventure hooks ... except that at this moment, another group of adventurers had earlier snapped up the hook and were off gallivanting in seek of it. Perhaps next week something will be available ...
Second, also currently at the Mede is one Xanthos, master-thief extraordinaire, magic-user unparalleled, and leader of the Cult of the Black Dragon. This Xanthos is a long-time dungeon-companion of Clark from of old, and the party agrees to pay him 1000 gp for information about the statue discovered in the dungeon last time, at a hint from Clark ... and lo, the dark-cloaked, dragonfire-scarred fellow explains, "That is an image of Anglamorath the Black, the Dragon of Night; she is the dark between the stars, and when the Rainbow bridge is thrown down, her wings will overshadow the world, and she will come again in power and glory and her enemies will fall before her, and her worshipers will glory in her vengeance. So--who wants to join the Cult?"
Tiwo agreed to offer allegiance to Anglamorath, and in return, Xanthos taught him certain secret words and countersigns that would allow him to retrieve the treasure from the statue.
Lastly, rumors run through town of a "lost" expedition in the west, in which the half-Elf Cairn died of strange light, the ogre Torg met an unpleasant end digested in the belly of a monster, while their comrade JH barely escaped from the dungeon, bearing the body of Tarn, who had succumbed and drowned from the kiss of a nymph.
To the dungeon!
Descending into the Howling Tower dungeon by the secret insect-tunnels, Clark was leading, and he ran into three insectile horrors gathered in the central part of the tunnels--two of the horrors caught in the midst of copulating while the third waited on the side. In the short melee that followed, Clark was paralyzed by the poisonous tentacles of one, but the horrors were swiftly dispatched by a pile-on of dogs and spear-wielding Mizer (who learned the use of the spear through certain ancient rituals taught him while apprenticed to an ancient and powerful magic-user).
The party then dragged Clark into the dungeon and debated whether to carry him along or wait for him to be freed of the rigor of paralysis. Fortunately, the effect wore off even while they argued, and the expedition was able to continue in good time.
Guided to the door wherein they were surprised by a large group of goblins and wolves on a former expedition (#85, I'm not writing it now, sorry), the party argued as to whether to split up for a pincer-attack or not. Lucky Bob and co. argued "not" and as the rest of the party acquiesced, they turned to burst in the door to surprise whatever lay beyond.
Behind the door lay a large chamber, filled with goblins, wolves, goblin-detritus, and a few low fires for rat-cooking. Blackleaf and Merlin each got off a spell of sleep before the goblins could do anything, knocking out almost all of the goblins and even a few wolves. What followed was a chaotic melee as Clark, Koko and Thaddeus advanced to attack with swords and maces. The few remaining goblins attempted to get off their own magic, but while two managed to magically douse the party's torches, the other two were struck and had their spells fizzled.
The wolves then joined the melee, and it soon became evident that they were not mere wolves. But the party was well-equipped with magic and silver weapons and had no trouble dealing damage to the werewolves, though the creatures were not easily dispatched because of high hp rolls. Midway through the combat, the remaining goblin-leaders broke and fled, earning opprobrium from their wolfish companions, but the party allowed them to flee. Several rounds later, the final werewolf (of five) dropped its head and in Common growled, "Spare me! Mercy!"
Mercy was granted by the predominantly Good party; pumping their new captive for information, they learned his name, Vitrig, learned that the goblins and wolves still largely dominate this first dungeon level, and rediscovered the wolf-and-goblin altar in a secret room, covered anew with offerings of silver and gems. Tying Vitrig up, the party continued on their way to explore more of the first dungeon level.
Exploring the eastern boundaries, the party opened several empty tombs, and then finally a chamber seemingly guarded by two silver statues in the form of Elfin maiden-warriors. There were further doors leading from the chamber, but when the statues uttered a hollow challenge in Chaotic--one dissimilar to the countersigns taught to Tiwo by Xanthos--the party elected to withdraw rather than risk fighting golems.
Continuing exploration, the party entered a large hall with several pillars, and surprised about a dozen bizarre creatures clustered around one of the pillars ... Another sleep spell dropped a few of the creatures, but that led to battle as they turned to deal with the intruding adventurers. And so the party came face to face with strange things, goblin in shape, but with four long gangling arms from either shoulder, two vestigial arms from their chests, plates of black exoskeleton covering parts of their bodies, and two huge black multi-faceted eyes staring out from over mouths drooling and gaping around large fanged mandibles--spider-goblin-things!
Because of a good initiative roll and use of a web spell to immobilize half of the creatures remaining awake, and then a fireball spell that wiped out the webbed and sleeping creatures, the encounter passed quickly with the party triumphing. It was discovered that the creatures were, with their own webs, tying up the deceased body of an Elf-woman to the central pillar, whom Lucky Bob elected to take up and carry out of the dungeon to be raised from the dead.
About to turn back and return to town, the party was recalled to the lure of treasure by Blackleaf and Koko--to come all this way and forget about the treasure-laden dragon statue? Goaded on by this reminder, the party quickly found their way to the stair down to the second level. There, an encounter with wolves was avoided, and then the party found themselves in the great gallery before the shining black statue of Anglamorath.
Tiwo gave the countersigns and demanded in Chaotic that the dragon relinquish her treasure; then going up, he attempted to prize off the gems on the belly ... and nothing happened. Working quickly, and with the help of the Chaotic followers of Kord, Thaddeus, Coball, and Merlin, the party managed to prize off some two dozen gems and thousands of gold and silver coins. Fortunately, they had brought enough sacks into the dungeon in which to stuff all this treasure, and so they were able to haul all of it out, fireballing another small pack of wolves on their quick-march back to the surface.
Returning to town, only Clark and Mizer elected to carouse, and thus is word of their deeds and rewards spread throughout town.
Showing posts with label black dragon's meed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label black dragon's meed. Show all posts
Friday, April 5, 2019
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Greyhame Game Expedition 87
A real-world two-part expedition, but interrupted in-game only by a pause in media res back at the camp outside the dungeon ...
The roster for 25 and 29 March:
Sten (halfling)
with Henry (magic-user), Tal (thief), and Foz (free goblin)
Nigel (16 year old boy-wonder magic-user)
Shoopie (dwarf)
with Zanatos (cleric)
Clark (paladin)
Tomu (dwarf) and Erbin (fighter)
and a small army of hirelings and dogs
At the Black Dragon's Meed Inn & Tavern back in town, a strange party arrives: a goblin, obviously the leader, introduced himself as Drang, his female Elf companion as Stormy, and the chief of his five-ogre entourage as Barduk; the four ogre-servants carried for their goblin-master a chest, obviously heavy, from which Drang counted out several thousand gold for a year's stay at the inn.
He then turned to the adventurers gathered in the tavern common room--Henry and Sten were holding a reunion of old friends with Nigel, Shoopie, and Zanatos--and the goblin Drang offered a further "obscene amount" of gold if these obvious ne'er-do-wells and adventurers would seek out a zone for him, lost of old under the Greyhame Mountain. A treasure map was offered--actually a letter and an account from the chronicles of the Brondings, which together suggested the location of the lost item--and a precise amount was agreed upon.
Thus offered compensation, the party acquired what they needed in town, and then set out for the Greyhame Mountain. Their clues led them into the Glimmervaults, those ancient caverns whose ceilings glimmer in the dark as if with the night's stars. Certain among the party had adventured in the 'Vaults previously (some so long ago as to have been in a previous incarnation of the dungeon, in a previous campaign!). Armed with their own map, they oriented themselves and then struck out into unexplored areas.
The caverns extended for a good way to the south and east; in a certain portion, the cave ceiling seemed to vanish into the night sky, though under constellations strangely distorted; and further on was discovered a great lake of dark waters glittering under stars. Another cave was found filled with a herd of giant pallid cave-locusts, while in one section stone doors were held closed by great iron bars warning with inscriptions of "the pollution of death is barred inside these halls."
While standing on the shore of the dark lake, the party was attacked by huge whited salamanders that swarmed out of the waters like slimy crocodiles; two of the dogs were slain here, but the foul creatures were driven back into the waters by a liberal application of flaming lamp oil. It was about this time that the party elected to return to their camp outside, uncertain of their prospects further in the dungeon without a little extra muscle.
The extra muscle came in the form of Clark, Tomu, and Erbin, whose players joined us on the 29th; and with their reinforcement, the party returned into the darkness.
Under a starry sky, the party discovered a secret cache of treasure in a stone tree; but were surprised from behind by a group of about a dozen corpses shambling toward them, corpses covered in growths of wispy grey mold, whitecap mushrooms, and other fungal growths. These did not turn away from Zanatos' holy symbol and prayers, but Clark was able to cause them to fight each other by the use of his ring of fungus control. But while the party argued as to what to do with the discovered treasure, they were interrupted again from behind by the snuffling and crunching of cave bears enjoying the surprise feast of fungal zombies.
----
"Yeah, we fucking killed those bears!" Nigel interjects into the midst of this accounting by the carousing characters.
"With the help of my ring of animal control," Shoopie adds; "But you should slow down on that beer, boy."
"Who are you calling boy? I'm a man! I'm sixteen--that's the age of majority!"
"Until you can grow one of these," Shoopie replies, tugging at his beard, "I'm afraid you're no man."
----
Continuing the account, the party found themselves in a cavern filled with stalagmites and stalactites; fortunately, Clark happened to look behind and witness one of the stalagmites shuffling and shifting just a little closer to the party. Alerting his fellows, he then advanced to investigate, followed cautiously by Sten ... and stepping within range, Clark found himself suddenly faced with an explosion of whipping tendrils from the weird stalagmite. Several latched onto him with glue-like secretions and then Clark found himself being dragged onward into the darkness and the suddenly revealed maw of stony teeth gaping from the stalagmite's side.
So began a desperate battle in the dark; as the party moved to Clark's aid, they found themselves accosted by two others of the stalagmite-horrors, the tendrils of which dragged a number of characters into the threat of crunching maws. Tomu and Erbin were two such caught, while Shoopie and Sten also found themselves struggling against the in-reeling tendrils. Each round in the grip of the tendrils while in melee range, the monsters were able to crush their victims in their jaws, and Erbin faced the swift death of his hireling, and then his own terrible death. Arakh the orc, Nigel's companion from adventure of old, also found death here, and Clark himself was brought low by too many rounds in the stony grip of his foe.
Nigel cast a lightning bolt spell to no effect, but Henry's fireball softened up two of the creatures, while Zanatos' cure spells helped bolster Clark long enough to heal himself further by laying hands on himself. Once the first of the three creatures was slain, though, its body oozing a foul yellow ichor, the party was able to combine efforts, and their various magical strength and swords were able to cut down the last two stony pillars of death.
At this point, much thought was given as to whether to retreat, but the call of sweet lucre proved irresistible, and the party moved deeper into the dungeon. Discovering halls of worked stone, decorated with imagery of Elves dancing under stars and trees of oak and firs, the party entered cautiously and discovered a number of fallen bodies, apparently killed of old by their own hands. These proved, as suspected, to be undead, which arose and drew swords of shadow from the empty scabbards at their sides.
And the danger of encounters with the undead was remembered here under pillars like stone trees, as Nigel and Zanatos both suffered the loss of life energy when struck by the cold shadowed swords. But the undead horrors were finally destroyed ...
----
At this point, the account is interrupted again as the carousing characters break into old reminiscences. "Yeah, seems like we might have to make another trip to Rix's dungeon, to bathe in the healing waters there," Shoopie declares.
"Rix!" Nigel says. "I still haven't forgiven you all for murdering Rix!"
"Forgiven us for that--what about all the other stuff we've done to you?" Sten pipes up from behind the bar. He has to stand on a barstool to see over the top, while he continuously pours his best stock of wine for himself and proceeds to guzzle it down. "Like when Xanthos paid for your 'lovely' wife to be raised from the dead?"
"Yeah, or when we sold you off to the Goblin King for a night?" Shoopie adds. Grinning evilly from behind his beard, he reaches out making a pinching motion with his fingers. "Beautiful boy!" he adds in a nasally imitation of the Goblin King's crooning.
"I will rip your head off and shit in the hole if you say that again," Nigel responds, totally dead pan, getting his fingers ready to cast fireball.
----
Anyway, hauling out all the treasure they'd acquired from halls of the dead, the party found themselves obstructed by the appearance of a gang of creatures, black-skinned, gangly-armed, and with greasy white hair. With hooked noses sniffing, they shuffled out of the darkness, ready to rend with outstretched claws.
A short round of combat established for certain the nature of these creatures, as the wounds cut by the adventurers' swords rapidly began to heal. Only Shoopie's sword versus regenerating creatures and Sten's flaming sword caused lasting wounds. But the punishment dished out by the party proved too much for the trolls, lasting or not; and in the end only one of the creatures escaped into the darkness, leaving its fellows on the cavern floor, covered in oil and set fire until burned to death by the characters.
So ended this expedition into the Glimmervaults--wildly successful if the amount of booze bought and drunk on the night of their return is any indication; and yet Drang remains at the inn, not entirely satisfied with the outcome of the expedition ...
Monday, December 4, 2017
Greyhame Mountain Dungeon 12.5
During the same week that Kord ventured forth alone to the Howling Tower, Blackleaf sought out Lailith, high-level cleric of St. Ursula, and the two were seen rising from the grounds of the Shrine of St. Ursula on the back of a flying broomstick and set out toward the east where looms the silhouette of the Greyhame Mountain ... but even as they set out, the sky darkened ominously with the beginnings of a summer storm ...
28 November's Roster:
Blackleaf (Elf 3)
Lailith (cleric 8)
A number of people in town, especially fellow adventurers at the Black Dragon's Meed regaled by Mizer with the tale of his adventure with Blackleaf, have heard that Blackleaf was confused and somewhat distressed by the reactions of others to the news that she had beaten and robbed the philosopher turtle; and moreover, for several days, she was seen speaking at length with Lailith at the Shrine of St. Ursula, especially concerning the nature of goodness, and how an Elf might acquire a soul.
So it was generally presumed that this setting-out of Lailith and Blackleaf together had something to do with seeking restitution for the turtle.
As they flew off, people noted the ominously storm-yellow skies which gradually darkened until the afternoon seemed evening, and the evening was pregnant with darkness until ultimately lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and heavy summer rains were unleashed below. This seemed to bode ill for a pair riding the back of a broomstick, but nothing was seen of the twain straggling back to town--where they killed by a stray thunderbolt? Pressing on regardless?
The rains continued for the rest of the week--and four days after first setting out, Lailith, wild-haired and weather-beaten returned to Brakeridge, supporting a badly drained and injured Blackleaf on the back of her broomstick. The twain descended to the grounds of the Shrine of St. Ursula; a few of the devoted congregants who have been won over by Lailith's constant ministrations of healing and curing of diseases saw the pair enter into the shrine, and Lailith make room for Blackleaf to rest in Lailith's own humble cell.
Some few rumors were learned by these devoted at this time, which of course spread through town after being spread to the local watering holes (though nothing like the boisterous regalings of adventurers returning to town flush and ready to spend and drink and boast all night long).
The pair did indeed seek the turtle-philosopher in the pool of the Brokenbrand Falls, and they found him, and Lailith cured him of his last hurts. They learned that his name is Khelonius, and that he was brought to the falls by Caliburn, third of the five Bronding Kings, and bedizened in recompense for his excellent learning and playing of chess with Caliburn and his sons.
Moreover, they seem to have won a truce at least, and perhaps a chance at forgiveness for Blackleaf, if she can bedizen him with new jewels ("Not that I'm vain," Lailith quotes Khelonius, rolling her eyes slightly, "but they were gifts of some sentimental value ...")
No, Blackleaf was not slain by the turtle; rather, she and Lailith disturbed the crown of the skeleton throned above the pool, and a party of misty-ghostly knights rose up and challenged for possession of the crown. Blackleaf was slain by their cold misty swords, but fortunately, Lailith was able to raise her. Now Blackleaf requires one full week of rest before she can do any further adventuring, and so she will likely miss the next expedition to the Greyhame Mountain Dungeon.
That's all the devotees can gather before they're shooed away. Blackleaf needs her rest, Lailith admonishes them, and shuts the door behind her to let Blackleaf rest while she herself goes forth to lead the evening round of prayers in her shrine.
------
Remembrance for the Fallen
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)
28 November's Roster:
Blackleaf (Elf 3)
Lailith (cleric 8)
A number of people in town, especially fellow adventurers at the Black Dragon's Meed regaled by Mizer with the tale of his adventure with Blackleaf, have heard that Blackleaf was confused and somewhat distressed by the reactions of others to the news that she had beaten and robbed the philosopher turtle; and moreover, for several days, she was seen speaking at length with Lailith at the Shrine of St. Ursula, especially concerning the nature of goodness, and how an Elf might acquire a soul.
So it was generally presumed that this setting-out of Lailith and Blackleaf together had something to do with seeking restitution for the turtle.
As they flew off, people noted the ominously storm-yellow skies which gradually darkened until the afternoon seemed evening, and the evening was pregnant with darkness until ultimately lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and heavy summer rains were unleashed below. This seemed to bode ill for a pair riding the back of a broomstick, but nothing was seen of the twain straggling back to town--where they killed by a stray thunderbolt? Pressing on regardless?
The rains continued for the rest of the week--and four days after first setting out, Lailith, wild-haired and weather-beaten returned to Brakeridge, supporting a badly drained and injured Blackleaf on the back of her broomstick. The twain descended to the grounds of the Shrine of St. Ursula; a few of the devoted congregants who have been won over by Lailith's constant ministrations of healing and curing of diseases saw the pair enter into the shrine, and Lailith make room for Blackleaf to rest in Lailith's own humble cell.
Some few rumors were learned by these devoted at this time, which of course spread through town after being spread to the local watering holes (though nothing like the boisterous regalings of adventurers returning to town flush and ready to spend and drink and boast all night long).
The pair did indeed seek the turtle-philosopher in the pool of the Brokenbrand Falls, and they found him, and Lailith cured him of his last hurts. They learned that his name is Khelonius, and that he was brought to the falls by Caliburn, third of the five Bronding Kings, and bedizened in recompense for his excellent learning and playing of chess with Caliburn and his sons.
Moreover, they seem to have won a truce at least, and perhaps a chance at forgiveness for Blackleaf, if she can bedizen him with new jewels ("Not that I'm vain," Lailith quotes Khelonius, rolling her eyes slightly, "but they were gifts of some sentimental value ...")
No, Blackleaf was not slain by the turtle; rather, she and Lailith disturbed the crown of the skeleton throned above the pool, and a party of misty-ghostly knights rose up and challenged for possession of the crown. Blackleaf was slain by their cold misty swords, but fortunately, Lailith was able to raise her. Now Blackleaf requires one full week of rest before she can do any further adventuring, and so she will likely miss the next expedition to the Greyhame Mountain Dungeon.
That's all the devotees can gather before they're shooed away. Blackleaf needs her rest, Lailith admonishes them, and shuts the door behind her to let Blackleaf rest while she herself goes forth to lead the evening round of prayers in her shrine.
------
Remembrance for the Fallen
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)
Dol (fyrdman hireling)
Saturday, November 25, 2017
Some Local Color ... a Sketch of Brakeridge
The town of Brakeridge lies in the southern marches of the realm ruled by Vialar (self-styled "the Good," but colloquially known as "the Cruel"), a realm which is a remnant of the wider kingdom once ruled by the old Bronding Kings. To the east of Brakeridge by about three days' travel lies the Greyhame Mountain Dungeon, contained within the southern spur of Greyhame Mountain itself, and an object of much interest in the past few months as adventurers have once again begun expeditioning within its depths with some regularity, unearthing ancient treasures.
Despite its name, Brakeridge actually lies mostly beneath the Oak Ridge and to the south of it, a height that was anciently lined with ancient oaks and other trees, but which stands mostly naked of trees in these latter days. From atop the Oak Ridge, the aptly named Oakridge Castle overlooks the town, the castle being the seat of the local overlord.
To the south, across the Whetstone River (not the river fed by the Brokenbrand Falls, for those curious) and about two days' travel on foot, the village of Kallia and surrounding farmlands sprawl through the valleys, also subject to the local lord of Oakridge Castle. Meanwhile, north along the trade road, about a week away at most, the nearest neighbor of civilization is the walled town of Bardastead, a freetown with a charter, ruled over by a council of its own aldermen (still subject to Vialar, of course).
If one were to travel further north, one would cross through a pass and ultimately come into the personal demesne of Vialar under King's Mountain; or, taking the southern trade road beyond Kallia, one would ultimately end up in the southern city-state of Calpurnia (where my other game is "home-based"), or even ultimately find oneself in the original city-state with my first megadungeon, the Catacombs.
And to the east, across the wall of north-south mountains of which the Greyhame is a part, lies the vast and mysterious forest of the Dwimmerholt, wooded realm of Elfin queens, werewolves, and the semi-barbarous tribes of the Getae, who were driven thence by the victorious arms of the Brondings.
------
As of this writing, Morholt remains the local overlord in Oakridge Castle--and yet, he is a usurper, no legitimate heir to the seat of power. The rightful lord, one Albrecht, died some months before the renewed interest of adventurers in the Greyhame Mountain Dungeons; and in a surprise move, Morholt, who had heretofore been a trusted captain, with a small army of mercenaries seized both the castle and Albrecht's widow, the Lady Sonora.
Installing himself as lord, Morholt has made it known that he intends to marry Sonora and thus appropriate the lordship of the castle both physically and legally. However, Sonora continues to resist, and thus continues to be imprisoned in the keep; and it is said that Morholt is in seek of a philter of love, that he might arrange the marriage without the legal trouble of coercion.
Considering these events, the local populace is rather disgruntled, as they thought Albrecht a just lord and the lady Sonora a woman of excellent taste in the arranging of feasts. A delegation of villagers was sent to Vialar in the north to complain, but nothing has been heard back from them, and as Morholt continues to send tribute, there seems little hope that Vialar should care to intervene. Moreover, because Morholt is an avid hunter and an great carouser and feaster, the cost of his lordship has lain heavily on the people he taxes, and the people are suffering under his avaricious demands.
------
Within the town itself are a few places of interest:
the "Citadel" -- a watchtower, part of what was going to be a wall around Brakeridge to help better incorporate the township; the tower remains, but the walls were pulled down by Morholt's mercenaries, as he feared the rising of the locals against his usurpation. Moreover, Morholt has disbanded the local fyrd/militia, and stocked the watchtower with a company of his own mercenaries, who supposedly keep watch and keep the peace, but who more often abuse and fine townsfolk with little reason. The tower is called "the Citadel" as a kind of local joke, it being the only fortification within town, and yet still only a simple thing.
the Brokenoak Inn -- the oldest inn establishment in town, the Brokenoak is a long meadhall in imitation of the old Bronding halls, complete with an oak standing in the center as a support pillar for the center of the roof, and a dais with an honorseat (reserved for special occasions or special guests). The oak, as the name suggests, is broken--of old, a lightning bolt blasted off the top limbs, leaving a kind of pillar, around which the inn was subsequently built. Cheap fares net a guest a shut-bed in the hall; guests with more coin, however, can reserve a room in one of the outbuildings around the hall itself.
John's Place -- a simple watering hole for both locals and for the merchants and traders coming and going on the north-south trade road. There always seem to be men and women here looking for rough work, either mercenaries or laborers willing to port treasure out of a dungeon for a fee; also, the trade in war dogs along the north-south road is strangely constant, probably fed in part by Morholt's and other lords' obsession with hunting, so there are war dogs available for sale here weekly.
the Black Dragon's Meed -- (and note well the pun on "meed: reward/recompense"/"mead: alcohol from fermented honey"!) a new inn in town and a perfect place for adventurers to rent rooms and to carouse after their delves beneath the dungeon. The proprietors are Sten, a veteran halfling adventurer, and Henry, a magic-user of some repute. They may have information, advice, or perhaps even magic available for those with enough coin ...
the Shrine of Saint Ursula -- another new structure in town, built by the higher level cleric Lailith and dedicated to her Lawful Good cult of Saint Ursula, a kind of dual-deity by accident: because of the name and some of the imagery of the cult, the local people have taken Ursula to be a mother-bear goddess; which is not inappropriate, considering that the saint is one known for her especial protection of mothers and children. Lailith offers regular healing services to the local populace, and is also capable of raising dead characters back to life for the paltry sum of 300 gold (her fee as of this writing).
the Shrine of Adonai -- the newest (as of this writing) structure in town, right now a humble wooden image off to the side of the village green. This Adonai is another Lawful Good god, a god of justice, carved as a kingly figure with a sword in his lap, pouring out drink from a horn with his right hand. The image was raised by Aetheulwulf, a newly minted paladin and a delver into the Greyhame Mountain Dungeon.
the Shrine of Peoni -- (yes, I stole this goddess from Harn) the shrine of the local farmers and townsfolk, dedicated to Peoni, a goddess of growth, fertility, healing, and the simple life. Alas, the priesthood here is not capable of any great healing, other than ministering to wounds with mundane poultices; there is probably little of direct interest for adventurers here, other than the fact that local dissidents occasionally use the shrine as a kind of sanctuary place to meet in secret and discuss their hatred of Morholt ...
Thorgir's Smithy -- the local smithy and sometimes armory for the old fyrd; Thorgir and his apprentices, Aldir, Tess, and Freygir, are capable of seeing to the community's need for such mundanities as horseshoes and barrel-hoops, but also of forging simple arms like spearheads, arrowheads, shield-bosses, helms, etc. They once supplied the Brakeridge fyrd/militia; now they supply adventurers; and though they cannot make better swords and armors, they do buy them from passing merchants and resell them at their shop, meaning that adventurers can purchase anything from the B/X equipment lists in town.
Despite its name, Brakeridge actually lies mostly beneath the Oak Ridge and to the south of it, a height that was anciently lined with ancient oaks and other trees, but which stands mostly naked of trees in these latter days. From atop the Oak Ridge, the aptly named Oakridge Castle overlooks the town, the castle being the seat of the local overlord.
To the south, across the Whetstone River (not the river fed by the Brokenbrand Falls, for those curious) and about two days' travel on foot, the village of Kallia and surrounding farmlands sprawl through the valleys, also subject to the local lord of Oakridge Castle. Meanwhile, north along the trade road, about a week away at most, the nearest neighbor of civilization is the walled town of Bardastead, a freetown with a charter, ruled over by a council of its own aldermen (still subject to Vialar, of course).
If one were to travel further north, one would cross through a pass and ultimately come into the personal demesne of Vialar under King's Mountain; or, taking the southern trade road beyond Kallia, one would ultimately end up in the southern city-state of Calpurnia (where my other game is "home-based"), or even ultimately find oneself in the original city-state with my first megadungeon, the Catacombs.
And to the east, across the wall of north-south mountains of which the Greyhame is a part, lies the vast and mysterious forest of the Dwimmerholt, wooded realm of Elfin queens, werewolves, and the semi-barbarous tribes of the Getae, who were driven thence by the victorious arms of the Brondings.
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As of this writing, Morholt remains the local overlord in Oakridge Castle--and yet, he is a usurper, no legitimate heir to the seat of power. The rightful lord, one Albrecht, died some months before the renewed interest of adventurers in the Greyhame Mountain Dungeons; and in a surprise move, Morholt, who had heretofore been a trusted captain, with a small army of mercenaries seized both the castle and Albrecht's widow, the Lady Sonora.
Installing himself as lord, Morholt has made it known that he intends to marry Sonora and thus appropriate the lordship of the castle both physically and legally. However, Sonora continues to resist, and thus continues to be imprisoned in the keep; and it is said that Morholt is in seek of a philter of love, that he might arrange the marriage without the legal trouble of coercion.
Considering these events, the local populace is rather disgruntled, as they thought Albrecht a just lord and the lady Sonora a woman of excellent taste in the arranging of feasts. A delegation of villagers was sent to Vialar in the north to complain, but nothing has been heard back from them, and as Morholt continues to send tribute, there seems little hope that Vialar should care to intervene. Moreover, because Morholt is an avid hunter and an great carouser and feaster, the cost of his lordship has lain heavily on the people he taxes, and the people are suffering under his avaricious demands.
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Within the town itself are a few places of interest:
the "Citadel" -- a watchtower, part of what was going to be a wall around Brakeridge to help better incorporate the township; the tower remains, but the walls were pulled down by Morholt's mercenaries, as he feared the rising of the locals against his usurpation. Moreover, Morholt has disbanded the local fyrd/militia, and stocked the watchtower with a company of his own mercenaries, who supposedly keep watch and keep the peace, but who more often abuse and fine townsfolk with little reason. The tower is called "the Citadel" as a kind of local joke, it being the only fortification within town, and yet still only a simple thing.
the Brokenoak Inn -- the oldest inn establishment in town, the Brokenoak is a long meadhall in imitation of the old Bronding halls, complete with an oak standing in the center as a support pillar for the center of the roof, and a dais with an honorseat (reserved for special occasions or special guests). The oak, as the name suggests, is broken--of old, a lightning bolt blasted off the top limbs, leaving a kind of pillar, around which the inn was subsequently built. Cheap fares net a guest a shut-bed in the hall; guests with more coin, however, can reserve a room in one of the outbuildings around the hall itself.
John's Place -- a simple watering hole for both locals and for the merchants and traders coming and going on the north-south trade road. There always seem to be men and women here looking for rough work, either mercenaries or laborers willing to port treasure out of a dungeon for a fee; also, the trade in war dogs along the north-south road is strangely constant, probably fed in part by Morholt's and other lords' obsession with hunting, so there are war dogs available for sale here weekly.
the Black Dragon's Meed -- (and note well the pun on "meed: reward/recompense"/"mead: alcohol from fermented honey"!) a new inn in town and a perfect place for adventurers to rent rooms and to carouse after their delves beneath the dungeon. The proprietors are Sten, a veteran halfling adventurer, and Henry, a magic-user of some repute. They may have information, advice, or perhaps even magic available for those with enough coin ...
the Shrine of Saint Ursula -- another new structure in town, built by the higher level cleric Lailith and dedicated to her Lawful Good cult of Saint Ursula, a kind of dual-deity by accident: because of the name and some of the imagery of the cult, the local people have taken Ursula to be a mother-bear goddess; which is not inappropriate, considering that the saint is one known for her especial protection of mothers and children. Lailith offers regular healing services to the local populace, and is also capable of raising dead characters back to life for the paltry sum of 300 gold (her fee as of this writing).
the Shrine of Adonai -- the newest (as of this writing) structure in town, right now a humble wooden image off to the side of the village green. This Adonai is another Lawful Good god, a god of justice, carved as a kingly figure with a sword in his lap, pouring out drink from a horn with his right hand. The image was raised by Aetheulwulf, a newly minted paladin and a delver into the Greyhame Mountain Dungeon.
the Shrine of Peoni -- (yes, I stole this goddess from Harn) the shrine of the local farmers and townsfolk, dedicated to Peoni, a goddess of growth, fertility, healing, and the simple life. Alas, the priesthood here is not capable of any great healing, other than ministering to wounds with mundane poultices; there is probably little of direct interest for adventurers here, other than the fact that local dissidents occasionally use the shrine as a kind of sanctuary place to meet in secret and discuss their hatred of Morholt ...
Thorgir's Smithy -- the local smithy and sometimes armory for the old fyrd; Thorgir and his apprentices, Aldir, Tess, and Freygir, are capable of seeing to the community's need for such mundanities as horseshoes and barrel-hoops, but also of forging simple arms like spearheads, arrowheads, shield-bosses, helms, etc. They once supplied the Brakeridge fyrd/militia; now they supply adventurers; and though they cannot make better swords and armors, they do buy them from passing merchants and resell them at their shop, meaning that adventurers can purchase anything from the B/X equipment lists in town.
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