Please do not post in this thread (unless you are a playing a character in the game.)
This is the game thread for a roleplaying campaign requested by enthusiastic newcomers.
The companion thread is here:
The idea is that this is purely the story of a group of adventurers and so any questions or remarks should be posted in the companion thread.
The campaign uses 1st Edition D+D rules heavily simplified by me and with a ‘Robin Hood’ flavour (i.e. English countryside, medieval technology and heroic chaps fighting evil.)
The campaign map will follow.
(Appleciders, please can you post it. It failed when I tried copying the link.)
Freeport is an unusual place. Five luxurious Mansions look out over the Empire river, with two handy natural harbours in view.
The Mansions are used by the five adjacent Powers:
the Empire
Naugrimshire
Sherwoodshire
Ocean Barbarians
Tsarinan forest Druids
There is a lot of trade coming into Freeport. Galleys from the Empire, Longboats + Sailing Ships crewed by Ocean Barbarians and trade caravans with Sherwoodshire and Naugrimshire.
There are stories of a Freeport Dispute Tribunal, where the fate of many is decided.
However, at present many folk are travelling out of Freeport. No doubt this is due to the Town Crier, who has been working flat out to announce a brand-new Arena.
“Gasp as you witness deadly combat in the Gladiator Arena! Be amazed and amused by the Circus! Visit the sideshows, where you can buy goods available nowhere else! Learn a new trade! Meet the Monsters, specially brought in for your delectation!”
At the Arena itself (about a day’s journey from Freeport), people are strolling in and happily looking around.
One male human (wearing plate mail and a holy symbol of Heimdall) is speaking to another male human (wearing chain mail and holy symbol of Heimdall.) Both have some young-looking adventurers standing politely behind them.
The man in Plate says “Mayor Crumlin! As we discussed, let me introduce my most recent trainee.”
The man in Chain replies “Excellent. I’ve got three jolly good blokes here. Seeing them all, it looks like we really need a spell caster…”
Up bustles a short gnome, face hidden behind his deeply cowled yellow robe such that only his dark beard protrudes.
“Your pardon, sirs”, he says as he draws close, “Did I hear you are in need of a mystic? I am not unskilled in such arts, and Jinx and myself are looking for adventure!”.
The crow on top of the gnome’s quarterstaff caws at mention of his name as he looks intelligently from one adventurer to another.
The man in Chain says “Welcome to both of you. As you may have heard, I am Mayor Crumlin. I have the duty of looking after West Sherwoodshire. This gentleman (he gestures politely at the man in Plate) is Versifal de Calaiston, who has the honour of protecting East Sherwoodshire.”
Versifal bows smoothly. “A pleasure to meet you both.”
He steps back to reveal the man behind him and continues
“Let me invite my protege to introduce himself.”
Crumlin swiftly interjects “And my three lads would like to say hello too!”
“Hello,” say Dorric, stepping forward as Crumlin gestures to “his three lads”. Dorric is a charming hobbit wearing leather, but with no other obvious armor or even carrying any obvious weapons. “A pleasure to meet you” He says with a disarming smile to both the gnome and the man in the grey robes “My name is Dorric, I don’t believe I caught yours?”
Almost instinctively Dorric also checks to see if the new people speak the thieves cant. (Thieves Cant)“Does anyone here speak thieves cant?”
“Oh, and Mayor Crumlin, the man in grey raises an excellent question. Why have you gathered us three lads, and why do we need to find a spell caster? I am, as you know, delighted to lend you any assistance you may require, but I can’t help unless I know what you need? My… colleagues, mentioned that you specifically requested me for this task because of my history with sales, but I can’t understand what that has to do with spell casting.”
Nearby is a gorgeously-dressed hobbit in red tails and top hat. After directing someone carrying a sign saying “THIS WAY TO THE GIANT EGRESS”, he peers through his monocle at the newcomers in apparent delight.
When Dorric stepped forward, a brooding human in a ranger’s cloak… didn’t. Quentin stands behind his two companions and Mayor Crumlin, arms crossed. At the mayor’s urging he dips his head slightly at the paladin and his student.
A teenage boy, wearing grubby overalls and with straw in his hair approaches Versifal and his protege.
He kneels, but rises when Versifal motions for him to do so.
The boy gabbles to the men. “Sire, your horses are stabled in our best stables. They are wonderful, really wonderful!”
Versifal thanks the lad, who then scurries away.
The tall armoured man behind Versifal has been silent so far, quietly listening to all and appraising his fellow adventurers. He stands over six and a half feet tall and wears his full plate mail as easily as a second skin. His face is open and honest, with dark brown eyes and a tousled mop of dark curls atop his head.
“Welcome friends” he says in a rich baritone. “My name is Johannes and I’m honoured to call Versifal my Lord and teacher. I pray to Heimdall that I can be of service is whatever trial he may have planned for us.” He meets **Quentin’s **level gaze and gives him a quick nod of greeting, as one fighting man to another.
The gnome listens to the introductions as he faces the two hobbits, and from their height they can see the hint of a pale face behind the beard, and a pair of tiny spectacles.
“Plixican”, he offers, before continuing a little nervously, “and what sort of trial are we talking about, exactly?”.
Jinx the crow, who keeps his beady eyes on the one who introduced himself as Quentin, caws loudly from his perch.
Looking at the man in grey, a bit annoyed “Sir, what is your name? I think we are all well aware of your question. The rest of us have all introduced ourselves, all but Dale who was about to speak before you interrupted him. And why are you so agitated, man? Have a cup of tea and relax a bit. We are all friends here, aren’t we?”
Johannes holds out a hand in a placatory gesture and says “Now then I’m sure he meant no offense. And being nervous is entirely normal at the start of any great endeavor. Let us not quarrel before we’ve begun. There’s many miles and days ahead in which to get to know our companions.”
Let me add one note, which I failed to include. In addition to wearing a grey robe, the spell-caster also has a black cat with him. It circles around his legs and never wanders more than an inch or two away from him. I should have included this detail.
“My name? Well, it’s John Smith,” and he points to his cat, “And this is Sneakerpuss. And if you have any tea, I would gladly take some. Agitated? I have no idea what you mean.” And John Smith really has no idea what this fellow means. He’s not agitated…just curious.
Watch it, John Smith, he thinks to himself. This is one of those social situation thingies we’ve heard about. Act normal. Normal for normal people, not normal for you.
Johannes claps a hand on John Smith’s shoulder and says “Welcome then John Smith! I’m sure your arts will be invaluable on the road ahead. What manner of things would you eldritch powers encompass then, if I may ask?”
With a large smile and a hearty laugh Dorric seems to have totally changed his tune and attitude “HA. Fair enough John Smith. Fair enough. Now seems like a bad time for tea, but I will owe you a cup before the day is done.”
“Nothing strange, at least not to me. I know this area well and its history, going back to the ancient times and I’m quite literate, of course. If you are all wondering, this is Sneakerpuss, though if you have any questions for him, direct them to me.”
John pets Sneakerpuss and the cat responds with a look of pleasure and with purring.
