(Read preparation here.)
Game System: Tunnels & Trolls
Tools: UNE; d30 Sandbox Companion (affiliate link); Trollzine Magazine Vol. 3; donjon Random Campaign Generator; Johnn Four’s 5 Room Dungeons; and others
Setup
This chapter will be heavy on narrative, light on solo mechanics. That being said, a lot of dice rolling and such went into the character information included in this chapter (See Preparation post for details). Apart from character information, assume all names (NPCs, places, etc.) were randomly generated, at least in part. Any other significant information that was obtained through the use of some type of generator will be noted with the [RG] designation, for anyone who is curious about these things. Finally, I used the Random Campaign Generator found at donjon.bin.sh to generate some details about the starting city, not so much to lock me into any particular description or feature, but to provide some inspiration when needed (geographical names, deities, inns, etc.)
[Scene 1]
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| The Dragon's Hoard |
Shelves stacked with plates, bowls, goblets, and other tableware ranging in material from plain wood to decorated ceramic to etched metal. Racks of weapons in various states of wear. Mannequins adorned in dresses, shirts, vests, corsets and blouses. A pile of ropes and chains in one corner. A stack of chests and boxes in another. Just about any manner of item or trinket could be found at The Dragon’s Hoard, Baybrook’s most successful thrift shoppe.
The Hoard’s owner, Garlen Notleigh, prided himself in his ability to meet everyone’s individual needs. Keeping a varied inventory of items was always a priority, from the most simple that even the poorest folk could afford, to the exquisitely ornate that could fetch hundreds, if not thousands in gold from a discerning and wealthy client. It didn’t hurt that the shoppe’s name evoked images of rare treasure, the reward of some great quest. “If a customer wants to believe they are buying some rare artifact from an actual dragon’s hoard,” Garlen would say, “Who am I to tell them any different.” Especially, he thinks to himself, when it might actually be true.
It is late and the portly, thin-haired owner is helping his last customer of the day. Tilly, an elven seamstress, places a selection of colorful bolts of cloth on the counter. She smiles cheerly at Garlen.
“Well, Tilly, you are looking much more cheerful these days,” Garlen remarks, his smile framed by a thin goatee.
“Thank you. I’m just relieved that things worked out for my sister in Eshhill.”
[Tilly’s story is based on keywords from RPGsolo.com’s “Getting Started” option: The setting is shadowy tunnel involving superb short sword. Shadowy secret entrance. Trying to stop you is the doppelganger skilled in sword fighting.]
“That’s right!” Garlen recalls. “You told me that a family heirloom was lost or stolen or something like that?”
“Stolen. An ornamental golden sword that had been in her husband’s family for centuries was willed to them after his uncle passed away last fall. It was supposed to be delivered last month, but someone posing as her husband intercepted the delivery.”
“Now I remember. That will be 10 gold,” Garlen said, totaling up the cost of Tilly’s purchase. “I guess everything worked itself out.”
“Yes, it did, thanks to Kage Gordain,” the seamstress explained, opening her coin purse. “My sister contacted him when her husband couldn’t find out anything about the thief on his own. The way I heard it, Kage tracked the thief to some caves just outside of town, overcame the rogue, and retrieved the golden sword.”
“Kage Gordain? I hear he’s very secretive. Did your sister actually meet him?”
“Oh no. All dealings were done through one of Gordain’s associates.”
Tilly picks up her cloth and heads for the door as Garlen follows behind. “Thanks, as always. These are just what I need for my dress orders.”
“Thank you, Tilly. You are one of my best customers and it’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
The two say their farewells and Garlen locks up once Tilly has left. He quickly straightens up a few children’s toys on a shelf before heading to the back of the store.
Through a simple wooden door behind the counter is Garlen’s personal living space. The room is about half the length of the entire building and contains a bed, nightstand, table and chair, a couple chests, and a few other simple pieces of furniture. A second door out of the room leads to a storage area.
The walls of Garlen’s room are modestly decorated with a few small paintings and a decorative shield. The gaudiest item, however, is a large, marble relief mounted on the wall opposite the entrance to the room. The carved stone is a portrait, some say a self-portrait, of a rather famous sculptor and artist. This relief is unique, in that it depicts the artist with an entire left ear, an ear he lost in a duel with another man over the love of a woman. Approaching the portrait, Garlen reaches out and tugs on the intact ear. There is a click and the left edge pops away from the wall, pivoting on hinges hidden under the right edge. [RG] Garlen pulls the relief away to reveal a small alcove and a stairway leading down into the basement. He enters and closes the secret door behind him before making the descent down.
[Scene 2]
Kristopher Miglward stands in a windowless room lit by several lanterns hanging from hooks embedded in the walls. With him are five other individuals, three of which he is meeting for the first time. He already knows Sylralei, the female elf with the wave of silver hair, and Dalen, the stocky, bearded dwarf. The pair freed him and the other slaves from Frogbeard the Pirate before inviting him to join their team. It was the two of them that led him here via a tunnel connected to the basement of the Hare’s House Inn.
Of those he didn’t know, Kelseen is human, like him. She has short red hair, a muscular build, a stoic face, and is dressed in full scale armor, despite there being no likelihood of danger tonight. The second stranger, Nen, is a bushy-haired halfling wearing commoner’s clothes. The third stands away from the group in a shadowy portion of the room, his back against the wall. The tall, imposing figure wears black lamellar armor and keeps one hand on a heavy mace leaning against the wall next to him. Although he wears a hood, his black eyes, leathery grey skin, and short upturned tusks could still be seen, identifying him as an urook.
Having not had a chance to speak since they parted on individual missions, Kelseen and Nen are filling Sylralei and Dalen in on the details of their last adventure.
“It was probably the most beautiful sword I have ever seen,” Nen explains. “The blade was solid gold. The hilt covered in diamonds, emeralds, and rubies.”
“It must have been worth over a million in gold,” Kelseen adds.
“It’s a shame that Eldan didn’t live to see it,” Nen says, his head bowed.
“What happened to him?” Kristopher asks.
“Troll bashed his head in while he was picking a lock on a chest,” Kelseen answers.
“Yeah,” the halfling adds. “Those tunnels were crawling with ‘em. The creature must have been well hidden because none of us saw him until it was too late.”
“Giant’s spit!” Dalen the dwarf curses. “We haven’t lost a teammate since we ran into that great beast under Castle Lorechester.”
“Who would have ever guessed we’d find a dragon living in a dungeon?” Sylralei asks rhetorically.
“It’s unheard of!” Nen agrees.
“Urrumph!” grunts the urook from the back of the room.
“Well, at least the rest of you got a larger share of the treasure, right?” Kristopher asks, grasping for the silver lining.
“It doesn’t work that way, lad,” Dalen says. “If a member of the party is killed on a mission, their share goes to Garlen.”
“It’s his way of ensuring that we don’t turn on each other,” Kelseen explains.
“Would any of you actually do that?” Kristopher asks.
No one speaks, but Nen and Dalen look at Sylralei and Kelseen as the two females throw a quick glance at each other before averting their eyes. The awkward moment is broken by a voice coming from across the room.
“Okay, everyone. Take your seats” The group turns to see Garlen descending the staircase from the shop above. As they disperse and head for a row of simple wooden chairs, Kris notes that the urook doesn’t move but stays put.
“What’s his story?” he asks Nen, nodding back toward the hooded figure.
“Tozhug? He Kelseen’s friend. She’s the only one who understands him.”
Realizing that is about as much explanation as he will get right now, the ex-outlaw sits and turns his attention to his new benefactor.
Garlen stands behind a long, sturdy-legged oak table and pages through a leather-bound book. Several other books, papers, and a quill and inkwell adorn the table’s surface. To the right of the table stands a tall dressing mirror framed in silver. Next to it is a short, round silver stand which appears fused to the mirror’s frame. Three sets of prongs reach up from the top of the stand in a triangular pattern. A brown leather pouch hangs from a hook on the side of the stand. From its bulges, it appears to contain several items.
Garlen looks up and addresses the group. “Welcome. Before we . . . uh, did we forget to dress, Sylralie?” He is looking directly at the elf who is wearing a sheer silk robe, its black leather hem and belt the only things covering her feminine allures . . . just barely.
She replies matter-of-factly. “The latest group of soldiers just finished their training and are having a few drinks at Knave’s Garden Tavern before receiving their assignments. I thought I might head over there after the meeting to give them a proper send-off.”
Kelseen sighs and lifts her eyes up to the goddess Ilmis.
“Okay. Well then, moving on,” Garlen continues, “I see you have met Kristopher, our newest invitee. Kris was one of the slaves Dalen and Syl freed during their last mission. Syl thought he might make a nice addition to our group.”
“To our group,” Kelseen asks, “or to her bed?”
“Jealous?” Syl questions, her gaze piercing the homely woman. “Actually,” she continues, turning to the dark-haired rogue sitting to her left, “he showed no interest in me of that manner. In fact, if any of the other men even looked at me longer than was appropriate, Kristopher made sure they kept in their place. I knew then that he had his head on straight.”
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| "Jealous?" Syl questions. |
“You don’t know the lady,” Dalen chimes in.
Kristopher hears a series of short growls come from the back of the room which he interprets as the urook’s best attempt at laughter.
“Anyway,” Sylralei continues, “That, along with his strength and other skills . . . survival skills, “ she quickly adds, cutting off any snide comments from Kelseen, “Made him a good candidate for Kage Gordain.”
“And a timely one, at that, considering our recent loss,” Garlen ends the discussion with a reference to Eldan’s recent death. “Now to matters at hand. We have three potential clients. They are standing by for their interviews, so let’s not keep them waiting any longer.”
He steps over to the mirror and retrieves the leather pouch from the stand. Loosening the ties, he reaches in and pulls out a ruby orb about the size of an orange. Gently, he places it in one of the prong holders on top of the stand. He reaches back into the pouch twice to repeat the process, once with an emerald orb and again with an amethyst orb.
[Using the d30 Sandbox Companion’s Adventure Generator Tables, I came up with the following information: Trigger: Message -- Major Goal: rally ally/form allegiances -- Obstacle to Goal: Pass a Series of Tests -- Location: thorpe (village or hamlet) -- Location feature: Fountain (I interpret as any water feature) -- Villain Goal/Reason: Derangement/Insanity -- Artifact: Spellbook -- Key NPC: noble teacher
Most of the client’s description was generated at npcgenerator.com. Should this be the mission chosen for this campaign, the dungeon will be randomly generated primarily using Wizardawn’s “Dungeon Door” tool.]
Once the final orb is in place the reflection in the mirror begins to morph as the image of the lantern-lit room disappears, to be replaced by image a bald human male with a short beard, dressed in clerical robes. The room behind him appears to be the interior of a church or chapel. The cleric moves his head around as his gaze shifts to various points of the mirror, as though he is searching for something.
“Hello sir,” Garlen speaks to the man in the mirror. “Can you hear me?”
“Kage? Mr. Gordain? Is that you? I’m sorry, but I cannot see you.”
“Nor will you. What is important is that I can see you. Now, please tell me your name and explain the job for which you wish to hire me.”
The man clears his throat and begins. “My name is Borin Farlight. I am the Priest of Mara, the God of Knowledge, for the village of Arnfalls. The last priest, in fact, unless my son is able to take my place when I grow too old to perform my duties. If not, then I fear Mara’s influence will fade from Arnfalls and the church will lose what once was a strong holding.
“I have sent my son several times to Camor to study at the Great Cathedral, however, each time he was refused and sent back home. They would give excuses such as he doesn’t show enough potential or they currently have more acolytes than they can teach adequately. As far as I’m concerned, both are nonsense. I feel the real reason is that they would prefer any association between Arnfalls and Mara be severed and hopefully a shameful blot on the history of the Church would be quietly forgotten.
“We have recently, however, been given new hope. The Arch-Priest has fallen ill. He is feverish, bed-ridden, and slips in an out of delirium. Some of the priests fear he is either going insane, or worse, possessed. Their best hope is an ancient book of prayers that contains powerful healing and exorcism invocations. That book is currently located in Arnfalls and they have now agreed to train my son, providing he brings them the book.”
“Then it appears your problem is solved and you don’t need me,” Garlen cuts in. “Just send them the book. They heal the Arch-Priest. Your son gets training. Mara continues to watch over Arnfalls.”
“It’s not that simple,” Father Farlight continues. “How much do you know about our village’s history, Mr. Gordain?
“Not much, I’m afraid.”
“That’s not surprising. Earlier I mentioned that the Church considers Arnfalls a shameful blot on their history, a blot they would like to eradicate from this world’s memory. You see, years ago, Arnfalls was the center of Mara worship in all of Egron. The Great Cathedral was located here and for decades pilgrims from all over came to pray and offer their tithes to the Knowledge God. The Cathedral was actually carved into the side of the cliffs that line the northern edge of what was then a small town. The entrance was located beside a high, yet modest, waterfall and the interior was carefully formed out of an existing cave system. When I was a young acolyte I spent many of my days in those halls and no church was ever more grand than the Cathedral’s sanctuary.
“That was until the day the creatures came. No one knows why or exactly from where, but suddenly one day beasts, monsters, and even some undead began to wander out from what remained of the original caves. Giant spiders. Kobolds. Goblins. Ghouls. Skeletons. It was horrible. When only one or two appeared they could be handled by a few well-equipped priests or fighters. But more and more came until eventually the entire Cathedral was overrun and the clergy had to flee. To keep the horde from spilling out into the streets of Arnfalls, the priests used a few scrolls of Minor Hellbomb Burts leftover from the Cathedral’s construction to blast the cliffs above the entrance, sending down earth and boulders to seal it off. Unfortunately, the blasts wore away the upper rim of the cliff, causing the falls to widen. A sudden rush of water came plummeting down, washing away the road to the entrance, as well as a quarter of the town.
“In the year that followed, the congregation built this small church I now preside over but leadership began making plans to relocate the main Seat of worship. Partly because of fear that the monsters might eventually find another way to the village, but mostly due to embarrassment over the fact that their prayers and power could not protect their Great sanctuary from lowly creatures. They considered Arnfalls cursed and wanted nothing to do with it. In the years following the majority of the priesthood moved to Camor, many days from here, and built a new Cathedral, leaving only a small number of priests to attend to the village until they slowly died off.”
Garlen stroked his thin goatee in thought. “And the prayer book?”
“Lost inside the old Cathedral.”
“As I thought. I understand now why you contacted me. So let’s talk business. I am currently in talks with several clients, but if I do choose your request my fee is 200 gold, payable upfront. I trust that will not be a problem since you sought me out you must know my reputation.”
“That is correct,” Farlight confirms.
“In addition,” Garlen continues, “Any items or treasure recovered during the mission other than what you have specifically asked me to retrieve become my possession if I so wish.”
“That’s a bit excessive, Mr. Gordain.”
“I do not disagree, Father Farlight. But if you are coming to me I have to assume that you have exhausted all other means to retrieve the book and I am pretty much your last hope. Am I correct?”
“You are.”
“Then those are my terms. I assure you I have several clients already willing to hire me. Would you still like to be considered?”
Father Farlight hesitates but eventually concedes.
“Good. My associate who brought you the LinkMirror will wait for me to contact him with my decision. If I agree to help you, you can pay him the initial fee and I will begin working on your case immediately.”
After wishing Farlight well and saying his good-byes, Garlen removes a couple of orbs from their prongs. Immediately, the image of the priest reverts back to a reflection of the dimly lit basement. None of the seated adventurers (or standing, in Tozhug’s case) speak as their benefactor rearranges the orbs on the stand. As before, the mirror’s reflection alters to show the group their next potential client.
[This next mission is inspired from an adventure randomly chosen from Johnn Four’s Book 5 Room Dungeons. Reading only the introduction (so as not to spoil anything), the only info I have is that it takes place on the mysterious and dangerous Crossbones Island. Pirates might be involved. That’s it. Everything below is my attempt to work with that information. Again, the client was generated using npcgenerator.com.]
In the mirror is the image of a woman sitting behind a large, oaken desk, a banner hanging on the wall behind her. She is elderly with curled gray hair and wrinkled white skin. Despite her apparent age, she holds herself straight with an air of dignity. She introduces herself to Garlen (still playing the role of Kage Gordain, of course) as Isabel Mistsplittler, the Governor of a small country called Sirisea. After exchanging greetings, she explains her need.
“In the course of settling a dispute with a neighboring county, we were granted ownership of a small island several miles off Sirisea’s coast. There is no need to go into the details of the dispute except to say that the island seemed fair compensation at the time. However, in the following months, we fear we may have been . . . how should I put it . . . conned.
“We have sent several crews to the location noted both on the deed and own navigational charts. Their purpose was to survey the island and return with the information so the Board of Counselors could determine the best use for this newly obtained land. When the first ship failed to return in a reasonable time we sent another. It’s been several weeks and we have heard nothing from either crew.
“Sirisea is a small, primarily agricultural country. We do not have a lot of trained warriors, and those we do have are more interested in their own affairs than affairs of state. My point is, I need to know if the island exists, what is to be found there, and if it can be of any use to us. No Sirisean seems willing to risk their lives on such a mission. From what I’ve heard about you, Mr. Gordain, risking your life is little more than a nuisance in your line of work. Would you please consider helping Sirisea in this most urgent endeavor?”
As with the priest from Arnfalls, Garlen discusses payment and terms with Isabel, to which both she readily agreed. He tells the female official that he would be back in touch with a decision and again removes the orbs and rearranges for the third and final interview.
[The third option will be a Tunnels & Trolls GM scenario (module) published in Trollzine Magazine Vol. 3. Most of the information below comes straight from the introduction to that adventure.]
The image that forms in the mirror is clearly of some sort of laboratory. Standing in its midst is a grey-haired man wearing extravagant blue and red robes embroidered with patterns of gold and silver thread. On his head he wears an equally extravagant turban.
“Ah, the magnificent Kage Gordain. Your reputation is known throughout the many lands of Barisea,” the robed man begins once Garlen greets him. “A warrior of great strength. A wizard well-tested in the magical arts. A rogue, cunning like no other. It humbles me to simply have the honor of speaking with you.
“I am Kolvarod the Arcanist, Son of the warlord Koshtak. I am a skilled warlock having studied under Golam Drusar, as well as a collector of ancient Agathonian relics. I have bestowed upon myself the singular purpose of preserving all knowledge of that lost empire.”
Garlen begins to twirl his hand in a “hurry-up” gesture, even though he is aware that Kolvarod can’t see him.
“I have recently come into the possession of certain documents that appear to be ledgers that would have been buried the warlord Agathor himself. The peddler from whom I purchased them told me that he himself obtained them from an old man living in the Lighthouse of Nyzam, who in turn claims they came from tombs beneath the lighthouse. This interests me since I desire to obtain the Scepter of Agathor, the magical rod which aided the Warlock in conquering the lands that made up his empire. It is my belief that the Scepter would have been buried with him in his tomb.
“It would please me to offer you the opportunity, Mr. Gordain, to enter the tomb and retrieve the Scepter of Agathor for my collection. Your fine assistant, this strapping young man who brought me the LinkMirror, tells me your fee is two hundred gold. Phsst. That is much too meager a price for a task such as this. I am willing to offer you twice that amount.”
“Most magnificent Kolvarod, your overly generous offer has all but taken the breath from my lungs,” Garlen responds, mimicking the warlock’s grandiloquent speech. “I am truly honored to even be considered for such a quest. However, I must ask. Why would such a great warlock as yourself need assistance fetching this artifact? You appear more than capable of procuring it yourself.”
“Oh . . . well . . .um,” Kolvarod stammers as his eyes appear to search for something that isn’t there. “You see, I am in much demand here in Maegar. Yes, that’s it! My duties keep me way too busy to have time to explore on my own these days. So regretfully I must send others on these dangerous missions that I should rightfully be taking on myself. Did I mention that I am offering you three times your normal fee? Six-hundred gold. As well as any items or treasure you find in the emperor’s grand tomb . . . other than the Scepter, of course,” he quickly adds.
The thrift shop owner glances over to the seated adventures, his eyes alighting on Sylralei. The silver-haired elf responds with a slight nod.
“Very well then, Kolvarod. I will take your request under consideration.”
After a rather flowery farewell, Garlen retrieves the three orbs from their prongs and places them back in the leather pouch. Stepping back to the table he addresses the group.
“There you have it. Three more offers. So, what are your thoughts?”
End of Chapter 1
Wrap up:
And that is also my question to you. What are your thoughts? Which adventure would you like to see? Which members of Kage Gordain would you like to see go on the quest? (I anticipate it will be a party of four.) Please leave your suggestions in the comments or send them to me in an email, if you prefer. To be clear, this is not a vote, in that I will automatically choose whichever mission or characters are requested most. But I will seriously consider them and make choices that I believe will best hold everyone’s interest. You have a little time to respond as I need to catch up on several other projects and -- well -- I sorta have a hurricane barreling down on me that might knock out my power for a few days. See you on the other side.
