Changing Directives

Written by Matt Cicci

Sentinel Five hunkered low, remaining hidden from the view of the men surrounding the campsite. This act of stealth was an impressive feat considering the figure’s tall, metal frame. Unmoving and unbreathing, Sentinel Five had sat still behind a thick bush of gooseberries for approximately three hours. The only evidence of the steel warrior’s presence was a faint whirring noise, the sound of the crimson-tinted lenses that served as eyes readjusting to the dimming light of evening. Through the ever-focusing gaze, he, the sentinel had only recently adopted the pronoun, had spent silent hours studying a quintet of dwarves carouse around a roaring flame.

Seeing the sturdy folk, axes and hammers at their sides and a bottle of whiskey being passed around, reminded Sentinel Five of his father, Rendersson Forgegrinder. Though Rendersson rarely drank in the fashion these dwarves were, the mere physical qualities, the stoutness, the beards, the deep voices all reeked of his creator. For a scant moment, Sentinel Five envisioned Rendersson, wrench clutched in hand, oil smearing his stone-hued skin. He knew his father had fled his own kind, but was also aware of the fleshed races capacity for emotion and sympathy . . . would Rendersson be capable of killing members of his own race?

The question quickly left Sentinel Five’s mind. It was a thought of purely inconsequential matter. Even if his father could not, he had constructed his children with the capability to do so. He watched one of the dwarves fall backwards clutching his sides in laughter, and realized now was the time to put that capability into action.

Sentinel Five strode through the sparse woods, his heavy frame carefully snaking through branch and brush. His objective became clearer with each measured footstep; these dwarves had mentioned the Hidden Vale, therefore they must be eliminated. A blade sprung from his right arm, ushered in by the sound of grating metal.

He was five paces from entering the ring of campfire light, four paces, three paces . . .

A quick blur of motion sent Sentinel Five ducking forward and down; he heard the thrown hammer thud solidly against a nearby tree. He was not surprised by the suddenness of the dwarves’ perception and action, he knew from previous encounters, and from the military history books he had read, that the stout race valued combat prowess. Still, Sentinel Five allowed himself a split-second of hollow disappointment before sprinting towards the dwarven encampment.

Sentinel Five broke into the orange light of the campfire only to see dwarves with brandished weapons and eyes already clear of the night’s drunken glaze. They shouted tactical commands in their thick, consonant-heavy tongue. Sentinel Five spoke the language fluently; however, he refused to register the dwarves’ baritone chatter, his thoughts instead focusing on his own strategy.

He sprinted towards his most visible foe — a young dwarf with a wild blond beard — with his sword arm held high and leading the way. His blade came down in a heavy cleave, but rang hard off the hilt of the dwarf’s battle axe. Sentinel Five was prepared for this, his automated reflexes were already responding as his brain whirred through myriad maneuvers and strategies. His foot was kicking out before the dwarven warrior even had a chance to smile at his defensive success. Sentinel’s steel heel landed solidly in the chest of the axe-bearer causing him to roll backwards with a pained exhalation of breath.

“By the forge! He’s made of metal,” one of the other dwarves remarked.

Sentinel Five did not offer a verbal reply, but did spin towards the speaker.

The dwarf, a pot-bellied old warrior, was flanked by two of his brethren, one who spat out a thick wad of tobacco through gold-plated teeth. “I guess that just means, we’ll get to melt down your bones when were done, eh?” He nodded slightly to his compatriots , who began to fan out in a tactical approach Sentinel Five realized was designed to cut off any angle of retreat.

Sentinel Five realized their tactics were in error immediately; retreat was not an option for him.

The metal soldier charged towards the fat dwarf, an action that forced the flanking dwarves hands and pulled them towards him with the hopes of collapsing his flank. Seeing their thick hammers rising for a synchronized strike, Sentinel Five swept his sword-arm low and horizontally across his path. The sword swipe was so sudden, yet so strong and fluid, the dwarven warriors immediately dropped the heads of their hammers to block the vicious cut. The moment the dwarf to Sentinel’s left lowered his hammer, the steel soldier raised his free hand level with his foe’s face. A spring-loaded dagger jumped from his wrist and sank into the dwarf’s skull.

A gout of blood sprayed upwards and out, barely preceding an inhuman and high-pitched wail of pain. The dwarf fell backwards clutching at the dagger buried hilt-deep in his eye socket; his movements, spasmodic and weak, were quickly recognized by the arrayed combatants as death throes.

To their credit, and as Sentinel Five had predicted, the dying dwarf’s companions pressed on, their faces etched with a clearer hatred and a battle-hardened determination. The pot-bellied dwarf raised his shield and barreled forward; despite his girth, he moved quickly and efficiently, leaving the metal warrior no hopes of avoiding the rush.

With a resounding crack and the splintering of wood, Sentinel Five was driven backwards by the heavy dwarf’s pumping legs and great weight. It was all he could do to maintain his balance as the dwarf continued to press. Still from the corner of his eye, he noticed the blond dwarf he’d kicked earlier standing up and preparing to rejoin the battle.

The remaining dwarf, the older, craggly faced man with gold plated teeth, followed in after the shieldbearer. He brought his hammer downwards with an overhand swing. The crushing chop came up short as a series of swift jabbing parries from the harried steel warrior kept the blow at bay; the gold-toothed dwarf cursed loudly and spat a dark stain of juice on the sentinel’s metal exterior.

Sentinel Five was acutely aware of the battle’s rising threat. While it was true one dwarf lay dying, another was returning to the fray, one was pinning him backwards with heavy wooden shield, and the other was taking advantage of that distraction. Assessing the threats and running impossibly quick strategies through his mind, Sentinel Five formulated the most efficient plan to ending the menace.

He bent his knees and leaned forward in an impressive display of strength that stopped the pushing dwarf stone cold. Following through on his sudden use of applied force, Sentinel Five drove his free hand forward in a fist. The steel gauntlet crashed through the shield and connected with bone-breaking force into the dwarf’s jaw. Accepting inevitable retaliation from the gold-toothed dwarf, he swung his sword-arm from its defensive riposte into a cutting arc that cleanly severed the now shieldless dwarf’s head from its shoulders.

Before his latest victim’s head had even touched the earth, Sentinel Five was driven to his knees by a wicked hammer swing that rang into his back with enough force to break stone. Unable to twist himself into a guard, Sentinel Five braced for another impact, one that came as the gold-toothed dwarf dropped the hilt of his hammer into the sentinel’s metal face.

Sentinel Five’s vision splintered into plethora of fractured images; one of his lenses had been cracked from the heavy handed smash that had also sent him spinning to the ground. Above him, Sentinel Five saw a number of gold-toothed images standing with a thunder cloud of hammers waiting to rain downwards.

“Gods-be-damned machine. If ye have a soul, may it burn in hell!” The dwarf brought his hammer down in an arc on course to crush the sentinel’s face.

With clockwork precision and speed, Sentinel Five shut off the damaged eye, bringing his hammer-swinging enemy into sudden, crystalline view. He shot his sword-arm up and inside the arc of the dwarf’s swing; the blade cut tendon and muscle. The vicious wound stole the strength of the hammer swing and the head of the weapon bounced off Sentinel Five’s skin with only a faint force and a dull, weak thud.

He kicked out, sending the dwarf backwards and down. Instead of rising to his feet, Sentinel Five rotated his head around and backwards. The sentinel’s awkward, inhuman motion gave the blond dwarf who’d been sneaking in from that angle pause. Sentinel Five took advantage by raising his free arm and letting fly the remaining four daggers loaded there. Sentinel Five had risen and turned back towards the campfire before the dwarf even fell.

“By all the fires that light the forges of the Great Hall, that was impressive.”

Sentinel Five realized the voice belonged to the fifth dwarf, the one who’d remained out of the fight. He turned towards the figure who stood on the other side of the fire from him. The dwarf was skinnier than most, with a long single-braided, red beard that swept the earth with its length. He was also unarmored and unarmed, wearing little more than a brown cloak and travel-worn breeches. Sentinel Five began formulating plans to deal with spellcasters.

“You must be the one sent out from the Hidden Vale.” The skinny dwarf ran a hand backwards through his scraggly red hair. “How long have you been . . .”

Sentinel Five jumped forward, clearing the fifteen feet and the fire in a single bound. His great weight came crashing down on the dwarf, his sword-arm twisting free to deliver a killing blow. Instead, surprisingly as he landed a sudden jolt of electricity welled up from his felled foe and blasted him upwards and back. He landed hard, his arms and legs twitching.

Sentinel Five lay motionless for what he realized to be a dangerously long few seconds. Only the whimpering of the gold-toothed dwarf with the wounded arm, and the heavy, pained breathing of the spellcaster alleviated his concerns. The dwarves seemed to be in equally bad shape and unable to capitalize on his sudden lack of mobility.

Sentinel Five’s one functioning eye focused on the swirl of stars lighting the sky above the forest’s sparse canopy, and wondered if, as fleshed races sometimes believed, his father was looking down on him from above. If he failed to gain his feet first and was killed, would his father be disappointed in his failings? When his father died, would he join Sentinel Five in some form of afterlife? Was afterlife even an option? Did it even exist?

Sentinel Five realized that these were inconsequential thoughts; he felt his legs regain movement while the sounds of incapacitation still emanated from his foes. He stood and raised his blade; the spellcaster was the main threat. He strode forward with steps still uneven from the electrical blast and poised his sword for a quick kill.

The dwarf lay there watching the sentinel approach with a slight smile on his face. He lifted his arm. Where flesh should have been, a thin steel skeleton, full of the same bolts and connectors as the sentinel’s arm, existed. “Sentinel Five, I presume? I’m Vanfried Forgegrinder, son of Rendersson.”

Sentinel Five paused, sword still held high and deadly. The firelight danced and flickered along its edge impatiently, as if unable to stand still with blood so close at hand. “You are my father’s son?”

Vanfried chuckled. “Your father? I suppose so; it seems as if we are brothers.” Vanfried propped himself up on his automated arm. “Regardless of relations, Five, we need to get back to the vale.”

Changing Directives by Nevermet Press is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.nevermetpress.com/contact.

Items of the Hidden Kingdom

Written by Matt Cicci
Edited by Jonathan Jacobs
Illustrated by Matt Lichtenwalner & James Keegan

Magical relics have long been key in the pursuit of, or defense against, undeath. From simple holy symbols fortified with divine blessings to cowls that allow the undead to walk amongst the living, a great number of magic items deal exclusively with those horrid beings that refuse to go gently into the ever-after. Below are a few such items inspired by the Red Monks of Von Brandt.

The Beggar’s Coin

Beggar’s coins are rarely spent. It is not that these small gold circles are without value. In truth they’d catch a fair price, but their value goes beyond the mere concept of commerce. When one of these coins are pressed tight into the palm of a hungry man, the hunger slips away; when these gold slips are dropped into the cup of a cold man, warmth slips over him. The simple dweomer infused into these coins creates a sense of comfort that few would part with. They’ve gained particular popularity in the hands of the downtrodden who’ve been blessed by the Red Monks.

Breath of Unlife

Despite the horror associated with the undead, one cannot argue that the concept of undeath possesses a certain appeal. How else might one explain the studied nature of necromancy, the existence of vampires, and the not-uncommon occurrences of those tempted to stretch their own lives into immortality through undeathly transformations. It is irrefutable then that undeath presents temptations to many. Chief amongst these is likely an immunity to the common ills that the living suffer. Once having stepped through the veil, no longer does one age. Nor does disease or poison offer any threat. And sleep itself becomes extraneous.

Seeing a market for these benefits, an obscure alchemist from Korothos City is rumored to have brewed a necromantic elixir that is sold as a rejuvenating remedy. On many levels he achieved marked success; the potion allowed people to work through the night, it reduced the grey hair in many a noble’s brow, and in general bestowed a measure of vitality on its imbiber.

Unfortunately for the alchemist, it did not take long for its necromantic qualities reveal themselves. A number of side effects emerged, ranging from a foul odor that permeated the user or the awkward rigidity it induced in the muscles. Some experienced much harsher consequences such as widespread reports of violent mood swings and elixir-inspired cannibalism. What happened to the alchemist in the wake of these disconcerting reports is unknown, nor are the whereabouts of his surplus stock of the potion.The recipe for the elixir itself has yet to be found.

Gold Oak Masks

One thing Brother Ptolemy learned of quickly as his Hidden Kingdom began its work, was the distrust that was inherent in the human soul. Distrust from those he was attempting to help, and and an even sharper level of suspicion from city officials and other religions who regarded his work with a raised eyebrow. The work it took to gain a city’s trust or something resembling trust was as great as all the other, more pressing, endeavors the Hidden Kingdom engaged in.

Ptolemy turned to magic to ease this burden; the red monk’s patented golden masks were born. Though often chipped and worn, these oak masks possess a soothing magical aura about them that puts others at ease. Words spoken from behind the wood facade carry a more persuasive weight. In addition, the masks muddle spells or inquiries into the wearers true nature.

Ptolemy, despite refusing the luxury of satisfaction, is content with his creation’s efficiency. The face the Hidden Kingdom presents to the world is golden, serene, and full of compelling wisdom.

Soul Strength Armor

The problem with undead, any veteran of battle against them would say, is they do not attack your body as much as they attack your soul. Insubstantial and bone-chilling, these evil creatures often seek to drain the very essence your life. Strong men grow weak, wise men go mad, and courageous buckle in fear at the necromantic onslaught these abominations unleash.

The intricate golden chains of Soul Strength Armor are designed to fight against these affects. The links, which are still as strong as any other suit, have been blessed with the divine and fortify the wearer’s courage and wards the soul from harm. When the brave paladin enters the crypt in this luminous armor, it will be the undead themselves whose psyche is shattered as they find themselves impotent against its divine protection.

Von Brandt’s Dagger

This simple, nicked dagger is the very blade that killed Gerhardt Von Brandt without his knowing it. A jealous man plunged the blade into the noble’s ribs, and thus began the subtle undeath that transformed Von Brandt into Brother Ptolemy.

In one swift blow this blade tasted mortal and immortal blood, and it awoke. Von Brandt’s body was imbued with powerful magics he’d been using to stave off age, and in that moment of transition some otherworldly force ebbed into the dagger. After the incident, the blade fell to the floor and was forgotten, only to be later picked up by an unknowing member of the town watch who later investigated the “murder”. The guard was found with his throat slashed only four days later.

And just as Von Brandt’s life has grown as he and his Hidden Kingdom have traveled, so too has the dagger’s strength. Wherever the blade lands, murders without assailants become commonplace. Honest men’s hearts are turned black merely by touching the pommel of this blade, and yet another killing spree begins anew. The dagger rarely stays with any owner for more than a few weeks, until eventually the dagger’s insatiable appetite for blood takes the life of its owner, one way or the other. This simple blade always finds another owner before long, and each time it gets a little closer to Von Brandt, whose unique blood it still savors after.

Items of the Hidden Kingdom by Nevermet Press is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.nevermetpress.com/contact.

Lithos: City of Shared Reverie

 

Written by Matthew Cicci
Edited by Kirk Duplessis
Illustrated by Rob Torno

Introduction

The elven settlement of Lithos has always valued peace and solitude, but few can stem time’s flow. Led by House Lithos, the settlement has engaged actively with neighbors while attempting to maintain elven traditions. Successes in trade, cooperative ventures and mutual defense actions have built the trust of the populace in House Lithos, so few objected to the plan for all residents to submit to a shared dreaming state known as Reverie.

Background

At times it seems like Lithos (and its ruling house) has stood forever, with elegant structures supported by trees older than some human civilizations. Over time Lithos has grown from an Elven hamlet into the sprawling woodland village it is today. The community’s founder, Turels Lithos, was an elven hunter who sought to escape the intrigues of urban life. Turels, aided by a handful of druids, turned a cedar grove and a small stream into a haven for like-minded elves.

Lithos grew quickly, attracting those seeking to reconnect with nature. When Turels died, his daughter Miselle took over, cementing the Lithos bloodline as the area’s ruling family. House Lithos has provided centuries of wise, popular rulers that have taken Turels’ lessons to heart; they have sought to remain largely aloof of the world’s concerns. The succeeded, for a while, but it came to pass…

Two-hundred and eleven years ago, the elven city of Helre found itself besieged by a militant order of a human church. Helre resisted, but the city’s leaders recognized the siege could not be lifted without outside help.

Messengers were snuck out of the city to organize a counterattack with the help of the surrounding Elven communities, including Lithos. Though they expected little from the reclusive community, they were disappointed when they were sent from Lithos empty-handed.

The ruler at the time, a very young Rykos Lithos, had been convinced by his Council that the best course of action was non-interference, with the hope this policy would keep Lithos free from political entanglements and the ravages of war. That night, they begged forgiveness of their gods for abandoning their kin to the humans, but remained adamant that it was the right thing to do.

When the Council members woke from reverie the following morning, they saw that some of the younger citizens disagreed. Dozens of young elves stood in the town’s center park, urging others to join and condemning the cowardice of House Lithos. The rabble-rousers were removed but the damage was done. People began to question their secluded lifestyle and withdrawal from the world at large.

Hoping to stem the tide, Rykos reached out to friendly neighboring settlements and opened the community to visitors, but it was too late; a previously unknown hunger for contact with the outside world began to eat at the community. In the wake of Helre’s fall, this spawned talk of how far behind Lithos had fallen, and that it might be time for the elves to actively adapt to the modern world.

In searching for solutions that might hold his community together, Rykos eventually hit upon the idea of a town-wide shared reverie. The reverie, an art long practiced by the community’s religious leaders, known as the Court of Seasons, allowed participants to share dreams, visions and the bonds of friendship. Rykos had little trouble convincing the traditionalist clerics to include all members of the settlement in their ritual; the Court was predisposed to agree that the crumbling of traditional community values could be reversed through the shared experience of the reverie.

The shared reverie was a spectacular success by any measure, due entirely to the Court’s centralized control of the process. Under the Court’s guidance, every elf in the settlement was inundated with an overwhelming sense of the importance of elven culture on a daily basis. Within a few years, the community had once again turned inward, rejecting the outside world.

In has been two hundred years since the beginning of the Reverie and Lithos has become a paragon of elven culture; natural and elf-made wonders abound within it’s borders. Credited with this unmitigated success, Rykos has begun to wonder if he might bring other elven communities under the sway of the Reverie.

Appearance

Lithos is not large enough to possess wards or districts within its boundaries. Instead of possessing different sections of its town, Lithos instead can be identified by its remarkable unity. Buildings made from living wood, elegant wooden and glass structures dominate the boughs of giant trees, the winds carry the soft strings of elven music being played in home and open room alike, and a general sense of natural wonderment fills the town.

House Lithos: This large glass structure rests upon the strong, auburn arms of three cedar trees. It is built almost like a cathedral, with a large stained glass windows offering both a measure of privacy and aesthetic. The most remarkable feature of the House is the Library of Lithos that dominates the eastern bough. This building is expansive and sharply decorated, and within its four wings rests a very thorough and exhaustive amount of literature running the gamut of elven thought from magic to animal husbandry.

Court of Seasons: This wooden structure is topped with a clear-glass dome and rests at the top of the highest tree in Lithos. It serves many functions in the community: a place of religious counsel, an infirmary, a school for general education, and of course as a home to the priests. Its most important function is, of course, acting as the center of the shared reverie.

Visha Arcanery: The Visha Arcanery is a school for the most gifted young minds in Lithos. This school of magic and combat, established shortly after the shared reverie, is dedicated to training elite squadrons of warriors, known as Visha, in the art of arcane swordplay. The Visha serve as bodyguards to House Lithos as well as emissaries and diplomats to places abroad. The training to become a Visha is intense, and occupies the life of a young elf for upwards of twenty-five years.

Using Lithos

Lithos should prove very portable to any number of fantasy RPG campaigns. The community operates very well as a secluded, or lost, village that the players stumble upon. In this guise the town his notably odd (everyone agrees with each other, very little talking, people excited for night so they can enter reverie, etc.), and is likely to prick the imagination and suspicion of many players. Lithos used in this vein also offers a bit of a horror aspect, as the players may feel like they’ve stumbled into a setting where the community actively knows things they are not sharing.

Lithos also makes a great setting piece for sessions of an RPG that are more roleplay intensive. The elves of Lithos are not actively violent, and instead of fighting their way to an answer, players may have to piece together clues and conversations to get to the bottom of Lithos’s odd aura.

Adventure Hooks

Some possible adventure hooks set in Lithos could include:

• A Court of Seasons priest has come to the realization that Immeril, Rykos’s son, is and has been outside the affects of the shared reverie for some time. This priest however lacks the courage to confront the king, and may approach the players to ‘journal’ how Immeril acts.
• The Furum entities that meddle with Immeril’s life are actively aware of Lithos’s secret. They demand he kill the king so they can assume control of Lithos and the shared reverie. The players could come into play as agents of a Immeril who demands they kill the king for his brainwashing techniques, or they could come to the king’s defense as agents of the Court of Seasons who assume Furum interference with Immeril.
• The relatives of an elven player may have last been seen in Lithos. However, upon being found they seem to want nothing to do with their child aside from wishing that the elven player would stay with them. The player may find himself under assault from the coercive reverie, and from the Visha if he openly resists it.

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Lithos: City of Shared Reverie by Nevermet Press is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.nevermetpress.com/contact.

Encounter: The Closing Chapter

Written by Matthew Cicci
Illustrated by Matt Lichtenwalner
Cartography by Danny Rupp
Edited by Tony Hoffart

Difficulty: Hard
Magic: High
Keywords: ritual magic, summoned creatures, wild magic
Terrain: Inside, wood floors, some debris, two levels
Treasure: Minor

Chaotic tendrils of uncontrolled magic thrash wildly throwing the inside of the once immaculate library into disarray. Nothing is as it was; the shelves previously quiet and serene are now a maelstrom of flying books and Immeril, once calm and strong, now clutches a book madly. Tears stream down his face as he chants the guttural arcane words with a voice hoarse from fatigue.

 

Within the bedlam dance of wild magic, rose-colored wraiths, their skin wreathed in flame erupt from the tears between the dimensions swooping down upon the lone arcanist. Their ephemeral bodies causing his to twitch and convulse as they attack him while others tease and taunt his mind, their ghostly hands batting at the book and trying to wrench it away.

With every ounce of conviction he possesses Immeril manages to shrug off the wraiths’ torments and his wide, wet eyes fall upon you. “I am sorry, so sorry.” Deep sobs rack his body. “Please help me.”

Background

This encounter should serve as a capstone for your PCs interaction with Immeril Lithose. They have likely strung together a number of clues and other oddities to realize that Immeril is in truth a villain who preys on the literal life-force of others. It may even be likely that by the time you are prepared to run this encounter, your PCs may be familiar with Immeril’s Faustian pact, and the nature of both the fel roses and the Furum.

However, a twist of remorse over his latest killing (perhaps his father, or other beloved friend/NPC . . . or PC?) has caused Immeril to rethink his ways; he is attempting to rid himself of the Furum once and for all. To do this he has sequestered himself in the locale where it all began, the Brightstar Wing of the Royal Library, and is attempting a dangerous ritual in hopes of abjuring the entities that have slowly eroded his free will. This leaves the PCs faced with the difficult decision of how best to put an end to this sympathetic villain’s menace.

Objective

The overriding goal of the PCs at this point is likely to be putting an end to the murders caused by Immeril. However, depending both on their relationship with the noble and/or their awareness of the Furum, the means by which to achieve that goal may not be as straightforward as beating him into submission. The PCs may find it possible to eliminate the threat by helping the elf escape the grip of his pact.

A number of issues stand in the way of the PCs achieving this goal:

• Furum Entities – These wraith-like, fiery beings have begun to populate the library due to the magic being unraveled here. Their main desire is to stop Immeril from completing the ritual; this includes destroying any who’d aid him. [Notes as "F" on the encounter Map]
• Wild Magic – The ritual Immeril is attempting to cast is well beyond his spellcasting skill. Gouts of wild, untamed magic have caused books and furniture to be flung about the room at random. When the PCs enter it is likely they will have to avoid or contend with these projectiles as a potentially damaging environmental hazard.
• Immeril Lithose – The young elf himself is growing weary of body and mind the further the ritual progresses. His psyche is under constant pressure from the pleading Furum, and the longer the ritual goes on, the more they will sap his will to fight them. Without proper assistance, reassurance, or aid, it is unlikely Immeril possesses either the physical or mental fortitude needed to complete the intensely difficult arcane process. [Notes as "I" on the encounter Map]

Tactics

Both Immeril and the Furum have different tactics and strategies throughout this encounter.

• Immeril Lithose – Initially, Immeril attempts to rid himself of the Furum. He attempts to grit through his agony and the constant harassment from the entities in order to complete the ritual of abjuration. However, as mentioned above, he lacks the ability to finish this process on his own. For more information regarding, Immeril’s actions throughout the encounter please read the development section below.
• Furum Entities – These beings attack the PCs with an almost mindless savagery. The furum are split up into two groups. two furum entities occupy ground level and attempts to rush the PCs and keep them away from Immeril, The other group, numbering three, has taken to the balcony of the second floor; these furum attempt to devastate the party from above with ranged attacks. Their fiery assault could easily unleash more chaos, as much of the library is vulnerable to combustion.

Environmental Effects

The uncontained magic of the ritual has left much of this wing of the library in shambles. Toppled bookshelves and broken desks should make for some terrain that is difficult to navigate. While none of this should necessarily block a player’s way, it is likely capable of reducing speed or movement rates. However, wise players may use these shambles to their benefit.Tables for example can be flipped to provide cover or perhaps even as a means to get to the upstairs.

In addition, the magic has caused for books to fly through the air, tables to hop up and down, and chairs to skid wildly across the floor. These occurrences are sure to hinder the characters as they get nearer to Immeril, subjecting them to further movement penalties and, perhaps, even physical harm.

Development

The key to this encounter is dependent both on time and how the PCs interact with Immeril. Below are some key elements to keep in mind:

• Immeril cannot finish the abjuration without help. If he is not killed or aided within a suitable time frame (5-6 rounds or some other similar period), he succumbs to the Furum’s will. At this point he brings the full power of his own villainy to bear on the PCs and possibly attempts to drain the vitality of one of their characters.
• Immeril can be aided in a variety of ways, such as encouragement to fight off the Furum’s commands or by assisting him in completing the ritual itself. If he can finish the ritual, he physically weakens and collapses, but not before ridding himself of the Furum and significantly weakening any remaining entities. This a suitable option for victory as it disposes of the true source of evil.
• If Immeril is killed, the remaining furum are not weakened and continue fighting. However, it may paint the PCs as murderers of a popular noble if they lack the proof necessary to show otherwise. This course of action does however eliminate the immediate threat of the fel roses and the Furum.

Awards & Treasure

The PCs should receive an experience reward (if your games suits such a reward) for completing this encounter. In addition, the secret of the fel rose and a perhaps a few of the items can be found on Immeril’s person. If he is dead, they are for the taking; if he lives, he is more than willing to part with them. The furum roil away in burst of smoke and flame when killed, they leave no baubles behind.

Click on the image below to download the map for this encounter.

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The Closing Chapter by Nevermet Press is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.nevermetpress.com/contact.

The Web of Desire

Written by Paul King

Editing by Matthew Cicci

“Ladies, tonight we’ve got distinguished company comin’ – Hettie, take the general; see if he won’t spill the beans on that mass of troops spotted over on the eastern front. Ursula, I want you to entertain the high priest; ask him if he’s heard any good confessions lately. Daphne, make sure the wine cellar is stocked. Remember girls: Loose bodices loosen tongues. I want this to be a profitable evening for all of us!”

“Look boy, as far a mercs go, we got it made. Decent pay, plenty of booze, cards and women – an’ all that for little more than havin’ to occasionally go out and chase off a bunch of uptight old harpies or growl at some snot-nosed noble who’s more interested in how his sword looks with his knickers than usin’ it. But if you if’n you gotta itch to go kick in the teeth of some wild northern barbarian with an axe taller than yerself – you go right ahead. Just don’t go rockin’ the boat for those of us who appreciate what we got here.”

Background

Prostitute and mercenary, two professions that have been around since money first changed hands. Under The Desire these two industries have become intertwined and organized in such a way that almost nothing happens in the kingdom without her discovering it. This level of connectivity has risen in conjunction with her power and influence; nearly all criminal activity in Highcourt now lay under her control. Those criminal operations that she could not annex, she swiftly moved into advantageous alliances and pacts of non-aggression with. The remaining few businesses and individuals who wanted nothing to do with The Desire and her underhanded, back-alley dealings quickly found themselves in the minority and were easily pressured into accepting the new status quo.

The result of this conglomeration is an informal network of brothels, taverns, gambling parlors, and other dens of vice and iniquity, forming a web with The Desire at the center. Each member of this web seeks to curry The Desire’s favor; they know well the generosity she shows to those who provide useful information and the wrath she unleashes on those who waste her time. Not every individual or business that finds itself under The Desire’s banner is happy to be there, but they all recognize the futility of resisting and, in a depressed area where it’s already hard enough to eke out a living, are trying to make things as easy for themselves as possible.

Mission

While The Desire seeks to bring ruination and humiliation to her enemies, the people and businesses under her control are merely trying to survive. Any day with three square meals in it is a particularly good day, by their standard. The easiest way to accomplish this is selling information to The Desire – the better the information, the more money its worth. Of course, most of that money gets paid back through the various extortion rackets she runs, but at least they’re still open for business – and alive. Not everyone is as lucky in what has become, quite literally, a cutthroat economy.

Structure

Each brothel, tavern, gambling house and drug parlor operates under its own management. The owners of each of these businesses submit regular reports, as well as payments or ‘tributes’, to The Desire by way of her lieutenants.

Lieutenants are individuals who have, by any and every means necessary, gotten into The Desire’s good graces and amassed for themselves a small measure of wealth and influence in her service. This, however, is a very precarious position to be in, as there are always people seeking to overthrow and replace them in this unofficial capacity. The Desire views this constant pressure and competition as a means of keeping each of her subordinates motivated and sharp. Should one be overthrown, then, in her view, they were obviously not as driven, dedicated or talented as the person who replaced them.

The Desire is at the center of everything. All information eventually comes to her, and no decisions are made without her approval.

Occupying the bottom rung of The Desire’s web are the mercenaries. These unscrupulous men (and occasionally women) are assigned residence within The Desire’s taverns and brothels to provide the muscle that enforces her will. As long as a location remains paid up and in good standing with The Desire, the mercenaries aid the establishment. However, upon missing a payment or falling out of The Desire’s good graces, the mercenaries are ordered to relocate to a new establishment and no longer offer assistance or protection of any kind to the delinquent business or individual. These delinquent businesses then become subject to hostility, often at the hands of the very same mercenaries who were positioned there only a few short hours before.

Benefits & Drawbacks

The primary advantage to joining The Desire’s network is the freedom to operate relatively unmolested. Additionally, since most of the money in the area comes from The Desire in one way or another, she is essentially responsible for keeping the struggling economy on its feet. Where many see oppression and extortion, some see opportunity for riches and advancement; and, for a scant few, the dream becomes a reality, as long as they are able to fight for it.

Within this organization, however, there are those who realize exactly how much they are being taken advantage of. Whatever money The Desire pays out, be it for information or bankrolling mercenaries, she manages to make most, if not all, of it back. Individuals who attempt to speak up for fair treatment are quickly silenced. Occasionally, a group of these disgruntled will come together, but more often than not they either lack the ability to efficiently rebel in any meaningful way, or are discovered (often upon being ratted out) and made an example of to any others who consider acting upon their unrest.

Adventure Hooks

• The PC’s happen upon a business that is been menaced by a group of mercenaries. They discover that the owner has been unable to keep up his payment for protection and is now being victimized.
• A petty thief has stolen some item of value from the PC’s and darted into the nearest brothel/tavern/drug den/gambling hall. Upon entering, they find themselves surrounded by mercenaries who are more than happy to break the monotony of the day with a good fight. Of course, once you fight one mercenary in The Desire’s employ, they all become involved.
• A mercenary approaches the PC’s with a proposition: Help organize and lead the resistance against The Desire and free everyone from the iron grip she has over the city. Discretion and secrecy are of the utmost importance or his life will be forfeit.
• A man begs the PC’s for protection. This man is actually a lieutenant of The Desire and sees in the PC’s not only a means of staying alive, but has plans to use them to kill off the other lieutenants and replace them with his lackeys. Eventually he’d like to usurp The Desire herself, and establish a new criminal empire.

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The Web of Desire by Nevermet Press is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.nevermetpress.com/contact.

Brotherhood of Infinite Nights

Written by Matt Cicci
Illustrated by Rob Torno

To us, forever. – A common toast performed by members of the Brotherhood of Infinite Nights

Background

Many races have accused elves and their kin of a certain haughtiness, a certain inborn racial arrogance. However, there is another trait that the races often attribute to the elves, albeit begrudgingly – goodness. Elves are renowned for their wisdom and their efforts to do right by the world at large. They practice peace and present a harmonious face to the world. But in every garden, a few weeds inevitably arise, and therefore must be removed.

It is these cast-out scoundrels, con men, and rogues that form The Brotherhood of Infinite Nights. Exiled from the elven lands, they have found a home in the cities of the kingdom. These outcasts took to joining guilds and running petty cons; other found money through assassination and thievery. However, it took the insight, charisma, and voice of an exiled noble, Caius Formyth, to gather this widespread collection of fey criminals together, and set them on a path towards criminal dominance.

The Brotherhood of Infinite Nights thrives under Caius’s leadership. Practicing every crime from assassinations to slave-trading, nothing is beneath them for the right coin. They grow stronger with every member and every crime, and their solidarity makes them nearly impossible to weaken or infiltrate.

Mission

The Brotherhood’s mission is two-fold. Short term, they strive to maintain and acquire wealth through myriad criminal ventures across the kingdom. They are always on the lookout for new opportunities, be they businessmen to extort or ports where they can ship out kidnapped slaves.

The second aspect of their mission is more insidious. Caius believes in elven superiority; elves are the longest-lived race, and he believes the most intelligent and wise. His empire is more than a criminal one; it is the seed from which a stronger, more decisive elven nation will grow. For Caius, each member is a future citizen and a future soldier.

Caius is intelligent; he realizes that many obstacles and many scores of years must be conquered before his dream even comes close to fruition. But, the Brotherhood is elven, they can afford patience.

Structure

Only exiled male elves may join the Brotherhood. Caius measure’s each elf’s aptitude and assigns them to a sect. While all members belong to the Brotherhood, each sect is highly independent.

For example, the sect in Port Yeoman deals extensively with fencing black market goods in and out of the kingdom. This is their singular concern; as long as they remain profitable, they may run the operation as they see fit. This independence allows for fluidity and security as individual sects have little knowledge regarding others.

Each sect has a leader, and these leaders meet monthly at Caius’s estate to discuss Brotherhood affairs; these meetings are often as much revel as they are business. Caius himself is a handsome elf born of noble birth. He was considered too unruly for the Elven Court after he was found fomenting a collection of elves to raid a nearby logging community.

Hooks

Elves have always possessed an indomitable will and a resistance to charms. These traits make The Brotherhood of Infinite Nights a threat that The Desire cannot easily infiltrate or subvert. Though both Caius and The Desire are far from good, their struggle should prove furtive ground for PC adventures.

The Best Little Brothel in Cliffside Vale

The Desire’s ire was raised when she discovered this Brotherhood brothel in the mining town of Cliffside Vale. Knowing her usual tricks won’t work, The Desire sets the PCs to the task of ‘freeing those poor, frightened women from the Brotherhood’s tyranny.’ The Desire will tell the PCs whatever it takes to see that brothel burn.

Desire’s Little Black Book

Caius knows all too well he cannot infiltrate The Desire’s social circle with his elves; he needs an outside party. Caius will offer a hefty sum to the PCs if they can get their hands on her little black book … and the names of all the nobles, regents, and politicos within in it.

Fighting for a Pawn

In a battle of wits and resources as dangerous as the one Caius and The Desire play, every piece has importance. Elamaro is a flashy elven bard; he is also one of the Brotherhood’s best con men. Of late Caius has heard reports that he has been seen about the capitol with The Desire’s courtesans. Fearing the loss of one of his top men, Caius wants him returned . . . dead or alive.

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Brotherhood of Infinite Nights by Nevermet Press is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.nevermetpress.com/contact.