An outer-planar, modular hex-crawl with a fabulous map and a provocative, exclusive miniature!
Trails of Arcadia Now on Kickstarter
Trials of Arcadia is the third module of the Circle of the Blood Moon adventure path for 5E and Pathfinder 1E. It is a 32-page adventure for levels 5-8 that you can run as a stand-alone or the next chapter of the campaign. It is also setting-agnostic, and you can easily insert it into any medieval fantasy world of your choosing – including Kingdom of Lothmar, our very own campaign setting.
With this Kickstarter campaign, you will be backing the production and publishing of the third module, Trials of Arcadia. Still, you will also be able to acquire the first two modules of the campaign at a preferred price through add-on products!
We are also bringing Kickstarter an exclusive miniature of one of the campaign’s antagonists, the celestial Naradul!
For our first Tales of Lothmar module, Burials of Teganshire, we used a new printing tier. The printed book is 8.5” x 11”, and the printer uses a digital offset laser press on premium 70# paper. This was taken with my crappy cell-phone camera:
That’s just the technical, physical side. We use a graphics designer and layout artist to layout the book. Guthrie is also a fellow RPG player, so he knows what is what. He has expert stat blocks, and the Tales of Lothmar layout he designed pops the text on the PDF, but especially in the premium printing. Our physical Tales of Lothmar books are some of the best in the industry.
So, if you’ve been on the fence about PDF vs. Print, go both: you won’t be disappointed.
For those of you outside of the US, international shipping has gone cra-cra. We don’t have a non-US print agreement in place (yet), but we do upload our print files to DriveThru RPG, and they have worldwide distribution for Print on Demand. Our distributor also has a relationship with Amazon, so our books show up there, too. So, for our international fans, hang-tight. One day we will offer better international shipping options, but until then, a digital pledge still goes a long way.
Here are some NPCs you can add to the Burials of Teganshire. They’re not in the adventure, but Burials of Teganshire may mention them in passing. In blog post 20 in our series, we talked about roleplaying additions to the area. This post is specific to NPCs for the Dungeon Master (DM/GM) to use if the PCs engage the setting outside of the module.
Of course, the DM may have their own setting with their own NPCs. The below are lore-generic and can fit right in with some modification or used as-is. Sir Johansson, his wife, and his squire do not make an appearance in Burials of Teganshire. They are included here for the DM to use. Keep track of their dispositions towards the PCs, as that will impact the next adventure.
Sir Johansson
Sir Johansson is a knight that owns nearby farms and ranches north of Teganshire and west of the trade road. He has authority given to him by his Lord, Lord Teragan, and inherited his lands from his father. Sir Kyle Johansson has no political control in Teganshire, but he has considerable influence. He is the employer of the four well-paid guards in the guard tower along the road to Tegan’s bridge.
Johansson is rich, owning a multitude of farms and having significant inherited funds
Lord Teragan has Johansson oversee several of his own farms
The knight is well-liked by the local populous for being fair and hardworking
He has considerable knowledge on agriculture and animal husbandry
He’s trained in combat and a thoroughly dangerous individual
His wife is a minor cleric, known to heal the sick and wounded
Sir Johansson’s Motivations
While a fierce combatant both on horse and on foot, Johansson is less of a knight in charge of farms and more of a farmer with knightly training in logistics. His martial prowess has less to do with innate capability; instead, Johansson is athletic and healthy with good morale and leadership abilities. He has no fewer than a dozen men-at-arms, well-paid individuals with superior arms and armor ready to do violence on his behalf.
As a logistical-ordered individual, Johansson’s primary concern is food production. He does not hold the fascination with horses that his Lord and fellow knights do, believing equestrian dominance is an enormous money sink. His focus on wise spending and agrarian-based wealth has put him at odds with the other knights in the barony.
His motivations:
Provide for food production of the land, lest during bad times we’re forced to eat the horses we love so much
Protect the farmers who concern themselves with feeding us
Increase the Johansson wealth through careful spending and protecting existing assets
Apply the King’s law fairly
Protect my family and legacy from a hostile world
Be the man my wife wants me to be
Roleplaying Sir Johansson
Appearances can be deceiving, and the knight fits the bill of a noble warrior with expensive equipment. However, he has a firm understanding of local life and has a lot of empathy for his farmers and ranchers. He is not impressed with shallowness, bravado, or smarminess. Anyone willing to defend the lives of the common folk has his support.
Kyle has a deep understanding of the logistics of the region and the hazards of warfare without adequate means to feed the troops.
Dame Johansson
A cleric of a good deity and of modest divine power, Serina Johansson is wed to Kyle Johansson through an arranged marriage. Selected by her husband due to her healing abilities, medical knowledge, and education, the Dame and the Knight enjoy a marriage of mutual admiration. They have four children, the oldest now in his early teens.
The Dame is an educated daughter of a wealthy horse rancher. Her father was surprised when Kyle Johansson’s father approached him to arrange a marriage, but the Dame was the youngest daughter and was set to enter into a life of serving the church. The resultant dowry has paid for itself thrice over
The Dame holds respect but is seen as a bit naive—she is aware of this and works against it, but she was raised to serve in the church, not lead a life of minor nobility. It doesn’t help that she was the youngest of her siblings, and was a bit spoiled and sheltered
Serina works to make sure her children have a good education and are pious, respectful children
Her divine power is academically based. While she understands prayers of battle, she has never used them
She deeply admires her husband’s firm, but caring leadership abilities
She has a full understanding of the family’s finances and the Johanssons make joint decisions
Dame Johansson’s Motivations
Support the Johansson legacy through planning, hard work, and the application of proper business acumen
Make sure her family and Kyle’s sphere of influence have proper respect for the divine and meet religious obligations
Heal the wounded and take care of the sick through divine healing and medical know-how
Raise the children to respect the King’s Law and the Church
Find Squire Artane a proper wife
Be the woman my husband wants me to be
Roleplaying Dame Johansson
Serina appears youthful in her mid-30s, and while not the most attractive woman, she carries herself with grace and confidence. She also likes to talk and gossip, feeling it is her duty to know everything about everyone. She is a highly religious person and cares deeply about her immediate family, her extended family, and her husband’s wards.
While she wears a holy symbol, she does not wear cleric vestments, nor carries clerical weapons. She can speak of religious issues and has a passing familiarity with history and arcane knowledge.
Squire Artane
Squire Gil Artane was selected by Sir Johansson as his squire for a combination of two reasons:
He is extremely accurate with a bow
He killed a grizzly bear with a pitchfork
Usually, a knight is supposed to squire sons of his peers and other nobility to teach them the ways of the knightly world outside of the influence of the squire’s family. Johansson was set to do that until one of his farmer’s sons killed a goddamn brown bear with a pitchfork. This impressed Sir Johansson so much he made the lad his squire, and the two have operated as a team ever since. It helps that Gil, as a farmer’s son, knows the agricultural trade and is not afraid to roll-up his sleeves during harvest and gets to work.
Gil is not a local yocal. Or, rather, he might have been at one time. Now Artane is a warrior, skilled with a blade, horseback combat, and all things archery. He has killed men in defense of his knight and has grown confident and shrewd. He has formulated a philosophy of “why kill bad guys up close and get stabbed when you can do it far away?”
Squire Artane’s Motivations
Protect his knight. We have to watch each other’s back
Become the best archer in the realm
Avoid getting married and losing my edge
Stay out of trouble and avoid bringing shame to his employer
Hard work and loyalty is the hallmark of good men everywhere
Make sure the men-at-arms have an excellent grasp of bow and crossbow usage
Roleplaying Squire Artane
Gil is well-aware of that his athletic build, youthful appearance, the scar on his face from the bear, and deadly reputation make him attractive to the fair maidens of the region. He has a natural way with people and flirts with the lovely opposite sex as easy as breathing.
Underneath the surface, Squire Artane is a warrior with a firm understanding of the use of violence. Like Sir Johansson, he doesn’t have any aspirations to go to actual war, having seen first hand what an arrow can do to someone’s face. His arrow. He has no regrets, but he also has no wish to prove himself “glorious” in battle, especially if the harvest is coming due.
In Gil’s understanding of the universe and his place in it, he leads a perfect life.
It’s real, folks. Behold! The printed proofs. We haven’t made the print order yet, so it’s not too late to order your own copy through the Indiegogo InDemand service! Once we shut it off, the discount goes *poof*. Click here to get your copy at a discount: https://igg.me/at/teganshire
We are going to move quickly to fulfillment. As soon as Indiegogo sends us the cash and emails, we’ll send out the PDFs’ coupon. We do digital fulfillment through our store website at https://griffonloregames.com/.
Print copies are moving along, too. Theoretically (it’s always a bit unsure in the COVID-19 shipping world), we should get the printed proofs today and approve them. We’re still optimistic the printed versions will go out in September, too.
Our support alias is support@griffonloregames.com.
We passed the 100% funding mark last night–thanks a ton for those who backed!
Let’s keep this train of awesomeness going! Head on over to Indiegogo and back if you haven’t already. The Indiegogo price is a significant discount off our retail offers, and funds collected now help us by paying for the production costs of the next project.
Friends, the printed book will be spectacular in quality. It’s thick, premium paper with a color interior coming off a digital offset press with one of the best covers in the industry. Back today, if you haven’t already, and if you already have, our heartfelt thanks!
This is the start of a product line of first-class adventures for 5E and Pathfinder 1E. How exciting!
Best Regards,
Anthony, Christophe, Anna, and Etta
Crossbow Man appreciates your patronage
Gruesome deaths, arcane wards, ancient rituals, and an old bridge: a 5E & Pathfinder 1E adventure.
Here at Griffon Lore Games, we’re big fans of grim, gritty hard fantasy.
That isn’t navel-gazing, nihilistic, and “subverting expectations.” In other words, heroic fantasy. A DM can attach heroic fantasy to any game world, and most line of products, and I encourage you to do so. Genuinely heroic fantasy is all about choices and the consequences of decisions. Decisions made by what players believe is the right thing to do given the circumstances and what they know.
First, let’s talk about Hollywood, the comic industry, and the book publishing industry shooting itself in the foot, first. I call it—the Triad of Suck.
The Triad of Suck–a generation of crap
Hollywood’s Three Decades of Crap
Current RPG products, for the most part, have avoided the pitfalls expounded by Hollywood’s fascination with navel-gazing, nihilistic fiction since the early 90s. By its very makeup, a fantasy RPG game is composed of players running PCs, in a story of their own or the DMs making. Since milquetoast conflict doesn’t sell RPG products, players, by and large, play in an environment where the stakes are significant, conflict abounds, and heroes live and die by both their choices and the whims of the dice. Since it’s a game, players recognize dice whimsy as part and parcel of RPGs.
It’s not all bad in Hollywood, but a lot of it is. Then there are the books.
Genre Book Publishing’s Three Decades of Crap
Current RPG products, for the most part, have avoided the pitfalls expounded by traditional book publishing’s fascination with navel-gazing, nihilistic fiction since the early 90s. By its very makeup, a fantasy RPG game is composed of players running PCs, in a story of their own or the DMs making. Since milquetoast conflict doesn’t sell RPG products, players, by and large, play in an environment where the stakes are significant, conflict abounds, and heroes live and die by both their choices and the whims of the dice. Since it’s a game, players recognize dice whimsy as part and parcel of RPGs.
Is this sounding familiar? It’s not all bad in traditional publishing, and independent publishers have rushed to fill in the gap.
But a lot of it is self-serving, non-entertaining drek. Then there are comic books.
Comic Book Publishing’s Three Decades of Crap
Current RPG products, for the most part, have avoided the pitfalls expounded by comic book publishing’s fascination with navel-gazing, nihilistic fiction since the early 90s. By its very makeup, a fantasy RPG game is composed of players running PCs, in a story of their own or the DMs making. Since milquetoast conflict doesn’t sell RPG products, players, by and large, play in an environment where the stakes are significant, conflict abounds, and heroes live and die by both their choices and the whims of the dice. Since it’s a game, players recognize dice whimsy as part and parcel of RPGs.
Detect a pattern here? It is, indeed, the triangle of suck. And the commonality between the three is the departure from the hero’s journey.
The Hero’s Journey is the Foundation of Conflict
And without foundation, all the fun factors in a fantasy game have no root. In a narrative, the hero’s journey is about the conflict that drives character growth.
In a D&D game, it’s all about the opportunity to overcome the conflict as a game. Players will grow their PCs as players will. Either they progress their PC through role-playing, or they don’t. This is where “DM as a referee” is better than “DM as a story-teller.”
Now I know what you’re thinking. We’re talking D&D, and D&D is a game, so where do the foundations of mythology come into play?
When Campbell was describing the hero’s journey, he wasn’t pulling a trope out of his butt—he was explaining life writ large via an archetype, a distillation, of if you will, of legend and mythology. Ignoring it, making fun of it, wishing it would go away, is only a blip in the grand entertainment universe. It’s never going to change because it’s human nature, stamped with the approval of Human History.
But, the “Triad of Suck” did impact D&D, less for what it did, but more for removing the concept from gameplay and game design.
Hitting (multiple) Rock Bottoms is the Hallmark of the Journey
The Hero’s Journey in graphical format:
Graphic provided by wiki commons
See the Abyss? That’s the low point that makes what’s next all the more delicious. How applicable is the singular hero’s journey to D&D? If a DM uses it as a blueprint to a campaign—highly relevant.
Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m talking about a STORY-TELLER CAMPAIGN when D&D is a GAME. SHAME ON ANTHONY. But that’s just it—you can use the format in an open-world, sandbox, player-driven campaign. It just needs some thought. Let’s use two examples.
Two Examples of the Hero’s Journey in Player-Driven Plots
Example One: Count Torc Mac Ceti
The PCs are the vassals of a stern, but highly-supportive, wealthy, and influential baron—their lands’ border another Barony, one Count Torc Mac Ceti. The PCs are in charge of the crossroads town Kamshire, and Torc Mac Ceti has made several inquiries that he would covet the PCs alliance—but the PCs, involved in a series of adventures for their baron, have declined him thus far.
One day the PCs receive word that one of their woods in now infested with a rather large green dragon. Indeed, the dragon sends them word he would like to meet with the PCs (gulp). The dragon seems like an amiable fellow—he cleaned the woods out of monsters and bandits (something the PCs always meant to do). In return for a safe wood, he requires, uh, a cow. A fat cow. Once a month. And a barrel of wine. To go with the cow. PCs are left with the impression this dude is old (and a bit lazy) and would rather avoid conflict.
Now, the vast majority of the players will think this dragon is an impressive addition to their PCs’ lands. And obviously, if the DM wanted to use the dragon to kill them all, then he would have done so. A dozen cows and barrel of wine a year for a dragon buddy? Heck yeah!
Aaaaaand there it is.
Several months go by, and the relationship works. Sure, the dragon has an evil streak, but then again, the PCs are no choir boys themselves. To protect their baron, they’ve gotten their hands dirty. The dragon sends word—he’s captured a wanted criminal, someone the baron has been looking for. The PCs take delivery of the rascal and give the dragon a magic item as thanks. This relationship seems good. Healthy even.
And then one month the dragon says, hey. This month I’ll need a virgin maiden instead of a cow.
Whoops.
Now, the PCs refusing the dragon or not, it doesn’t matter. If they deliver the virgin, the dragon screams, “She’s not a virgin!” as he drops her body in the town square and destroys Kamshire. If they fail to deliver the virgin, the dragon attacks and destroys Kamshire. If they try to kill the dragon, he is way above their league, TPKs the party, and destroys Kamsire. It’s a dragon. They are mid-level PCs. If they die, the bewildered baron, their liege brings them back, using up all his influence with the church to do so. Or the PCs roll new characters—1st Level survivors of the Terrible Dragon.
This is a low point for the players but a high point in the campaign world! And the dragon isn’t the real villain here, only a weapon. He’s demanded a virgin because Count Torc Mac Ceti paid him a lot of money to do so. Mac Ceti is the party’s nemesis, and he’s just getting started.
But was that organic?
Not really, but Count Torc Mac Ceti sure is a villain. How the PCs deal with such a tyrant will be interesting, considering they still don’t know the real reason the dragon went off in the first place. Killing the monstrous beast is only the start (uh, nothing personal, guys, it was just business. You’re not still mad, are you?). Depending on the direction they go, the destruction of their town, and the death of all their friends (and possibly loved-ones) was just the beginning of a terrible, terrible time.
This kick in the gut works because the DM didn’t plot the campaign.
He just plotted the PCs’ downfall. It’s up to them to crawl out of the hole—and start their heroes’ journey.
Example Two: Organic Your Way into Jail
Let’s back up the clock. The PC’s noble sponsor (let’s call him Baron Winstead) is besieged and mired in dirty politics at every turn. He’s been having the PCs do some things he can’t have traced to himself.
The players are having fun. Each adventure is a backdrop in politics and drama, and their PCs are getting rich in the process. The rewards go beyond the coin—the baron gives them influence, marrying one of his daughters to a PC.
And then, they get arrested and thrown into the King’s Dungeon. All the DM had to do is keep track of their legitimate mistakes, and when one was made that was serious enough, well, that was it, then. The PCs are stripped of their lands and titles, their sponsor’s hand slapped. They’re tossed in a dungeon designed to hold adventurers such as themselves, with the key thrown away.
In this example, the PCs committed crimes against bad guys but got caught—a less dramatic but certainly more organic route to the heroes’ journey than the dragon melting everyone’s face off in town with acidic clouds of doom.
And the DM has many drama options here, for example—the marriage of the baron’s daughter, a PC’s wife, was annulled and she was married off to the Count next door, one Torc Mac Ceti, and the PCs know him to be one bad dude.
This is a journey of self-discovery. In this campaign, just who are the bad guys? How do they get out of jail that they so lawfully belong in, and then what? How do the PCs go from zeros to heroes?
Beyond the Plot Tick—Failure Mechanics
Even if the DM doesn’t nudge the PCs into a catastrophe, the PCs can go on a hero’s journey by acting heroically in the face of failure. A DM needs to have both, really. He both needs to push the PCs into a state where only the heroic survive, yet give those heroes a chance for setbacks so they can learn to become heroes.
Failure Mapping NPCs
The easiest way to start planning for the PCs’ downfall is to map out what happens when the PCs fail with people by tracking dispositions: what happens when these NPCs are Unfriendly, and what happens when they are Hostile?
Local Nobility
Merchants
Townfolk
Bartender
Guards
Bard
Landlord
Innkeeper
Hunters
Thieves
Beggars
Failure Mapping Modules
Once the NPCs are mapped to their two fail states, the next step is to map out failure conditions for every adventure, which necessitates choosing experiences where it isn’t “all or nothing.” If you possess such a module (and I have dozens), it’s easy to change the tone of the module by putting in failure conditions:
The PCs never get there due to a random encounter—what happens?
The antagonist defeats the PCs and drives them off—what happens?
The PCs commit a category error (they went through the adventure thinking the problem was one thing when it was another)—what happens?
The PCs obtain a partial victory—what happens?
The PCs meet all their objectives, but the bad guy gets away—what happens?
“What happens?” should be a state that adds tension:
The PCs stop the investment of the abandoned castle but know the escaped bad guy is going to seek revenge, probably at the worst possible time
The PCs clear out the castle and kill the bad guy, but on the way home, they notice flying scouts above the castle. Again. They always have the option to go back and just raze the place to the ground and fill the dungeon with lava.
They never made it to the dungeon, and now the ogre magi fortifies it and stocks it with armored ogre shock troops in heavy armor (ha, ha, ha)
The PCs capture the bad guy, turn him in for King’s Justice, only he plays a political game, and someone lets him go!
The PCs TPK and the bad guy get their gear and use it to terrorize the region. Hello, new PCs, you’re in for a rough ride.
Rule-of-Thumb
As a rule of thumb, adding at the minimum four conditions to a module, half successes, and half failures, to various degrees, is an excellent way to turn even the most rail-roady module into engaging campaign action. And if the PCs keep hitting all cylinders, then they should reap the rewards—and the DM should ratchet up the difficulty until a single failure becomes catastrophic.
Failure creates high stakes and tension. Successes bracketed by failures create a game table of righteous D&D. If your PCs aren’t failing their way to success—then why bother playing a game if they can never lose?
Put players on a hero’s journey. By switching a mentality to “the module is the game” to “the player’s success and failure is the heroes’ game,” organically creates a world that is a journey of their own making.
Let them fail.
Crossbow Man takes failures personally. Without subverting expectations.
All it takes is several 10-minute slices of prep time per adventure to personalize the content in a module and have the PCs dive deeper into the game world as a result. Previously we covered the benefits of keeping the campaign world barony sized (or, 30-mile hex sized) for most of the campaign.
Designing adventures is a lot of work. A prudent DM, even one with plenty of development time to devote to his campaign, can also use commercial adventure modules to add to the campaign world—indeed, this is more likely than not.
When running a campaign to keep it personal to the PCs, it takes more than just tweaking the plot so it makes sense. A McGuffin at the bottom of a dungeon the PCs need to retrieve to get closer to their nemesis is a popular pastime with DMs. It doesn’t take a lot of prep for a DM to add more investment in any adventure. Let’s go over one method—spending 10 minutes at a time.
The Personalized 10 Minute Slice Per Player
In a campaign, player drives vary. Some are interested in role-playing, some just want to show up, others like the idea of min-maxing their PC, others want to live out the fantasy of being a feudal lord, etc., etc.
I have a spreadsheet that tracks each PC. It contains any background info, which includes a 5E or Pathfinder background and their backstory (and half of my players didn’t start with a backstory). I also track things they are interested in, or plot points they bring up or anything usable by a DM.
In Excel, notepad, or 3×5 cards—it only takes about 10 minutes per player to add to adventure content that is personal to the player.
Example
Player 2 is one of the players that provided a backstory, which contains information about his grandfather’s disappearance one stormy night. In the adventure, there is an encounter location that contains treasure in an abandoned desk.
The DM puts a clockwork timepiece (aka a pocket watch) in the desk that the PC recognizes as his grandfather’s. It holds some type of enchantment, too, but the party’s wizard can’t figure it out.
The DM plans to have the investigation of the watch reveal more details of what happened to grandpa, cumulating in an adventure to bring back his bones to rest next to grandma.
Another Example
Player 3 didn’t provide a backstory but has the Acolyte background. In a room discovered while running the module, the party finds a trio of bodies—all wearing the acolyte livery that the PC used to wear.
Here the DM is playing it loosey-goosey. He listens to the player’s banter and guesses about what these acolytes might have been doing before here and see if the player in question has anything to say about his time in the church. The DM files exciting tidbits from the discussion for use at a later time, picking the best outcome (it’s always great when the players add their own lore!). There are some personal belongings on the bodies, so between the time the PC returns the items to the church and the adventure, the DM has a chance to come up with additional details as needed to advance this personalized plot—the main goal, however, is to snarf tidbits from the player discussion.
The Personalized 10 Minute Slice: Locality
It’s not just the players that should get 10 minutes each. The DM should also spend some time on the intrinsic parts of the localized game world. Harken ye back to the campaign plotting chart:
NPCs should have some type of interaction in the adventure based on their motives and dispositions to the party/PCs:
The mayor asks PCs, on their way to an adventure and passing through the next village, to deliver some letters.
The blacksmith hears about the PC’s trip and asks them to show any ancient weapons or metal armor that they find.
Nisha, the barmaid, the girlfriend of one of the PCs, is super mad the PC is going away again, and says to come back with a present, or at least flowers, or don’t come back at all!
There should also be setting interjections:
Winter is arriving, and the DM decides there’s just going to be a rip-roaring snowstorm. Because, why not!
The PCs have been hunting quite a bit with the local lord. They run into a druid that asks them politely to dial it down before the tasty fauna loses too much population to sustain itself.
Also, interjections based on prior Party Actions:
The party cleared out an old wizard tower, but when they ride by it, there’s a blue light in one of the windows!
The PCs, in their very first adventure, helped a hurt dire wolf. Now the wolf shadows them, seemingly wanting to join them at the campfire, but still skittish.
There is a bit of lore that says that periodically on a clear night, ghostly wind chimes are heard in an abandoned orchard outside of the village. The PCs hear this while preparing to sally forth.
And finaly, 10 minuites for the Villan:
Assuming the current adventure isn’t directly about the bad guy, spending 10 minutes adding some detail for the PCs to discover or experience is time well spent. Example:
The PCs don’t know it, but the undiscovered vampire that bought a local farm is waiting for the PCs to leave so she can charm some of the critical villagers, starting with the loud-mouth barmaid that gossips about her.
The vampire arranges for the local priestess to be out of the village for a couple of months. A low-level acolyte that doesn’t know anything about anything replaces her, dramatically decreasing the threat of receiving a blast of radiant damage to the face.
Despite her best efforts, the vampire finds herself enamored with the PC Bard (of course). Before the party leaves, she anonymously sends the local bard a rare and old poetry book.
Recap
A localized campaign requires a small time commitment per adventure (commercial or otherwise), along the lines of:
10 minutes per player
10 minutes for the localized campaign plotting
10 minutes for the villainous villain
Note that all this prep was mostly about things the PCs did, about the PCs, or the villain. Little of it had to do with lore, and really, your lore should simply be a backdrop to action and drama.
Finding sand-boxy adventures to put in your localized game world makes things a whole lot easier when it comes to the players generating content for you. But even a rail-roady type adventure will seem all that more personal—when the DM personalizes it with local, and PC, flair.
Back Burials of Teganshire on Indiegogo for some excellent local maps and start adding that bit of detail to keep your players coming back for more.
Crossbow Man recognizes one of the runes on the bridge as the same rune on his brother’s sword. Isn’t that odd?
So, yesterday was all about the bad guys—who are they and what to do they want. We had everything from a possessed sword to a dragon lich. Some people had favorites, some didn’t like one or two, and the real question on the table is—how do I bring this villain home to the PCs?
How do you make it—personal?
And this is where an open-world (and sandbox) campaign shines. Because of the organic nature of how your PCs deal with problems in a localized campaign vs. “the BBE is gonna kill everyone!” style of adventuring, it does, indeed, make it personal.
Wind up your PCs with the villain
Ever see one of those toy plushies with wheels and a windup key? Where you wind it up and then set it down? You have a vague idea where it’s gonna go, but then it just zooms, hits a wall, and careens off into a direction you were not expecting.
Yeah, that’s that plotting you want, adjusting to the PCs’ actions. Let’s give an example with a villain from yesterday, Lord Marthous the Betrayer:
5. Lord Marthous and the Lady
Lord Marthous and his wife are on the lam, hiding from the King’s Men. Lord Marthous recently found out he was the bastard son of the king and confronted the nobleman he thought was his father and also his mother for her discretion. The confrontation escalated out of control, and while fighting his step-father, his mother interjected herself in front of a mighty sword blow and died. Marthous in a rage then slew his step-father.
Hunted, despised for patricide, Lord Mathous and his wife fled but ran into a trio of paladins hunting them, the three not realizing that the Lady was a sorcerer with powers of her own. The duo slew the young knights.
Now Marthous is done running. He plans to clear his name by usurping the throne. He will replace the King, the man in his mind, the cause of all his troubles. He makes an impassioned plea for the PCs to help him. If the PCs join him, when he is successful in his plot, he will reward them with betrayal! He will blame them for the atrocities committed to ascend the throne (guilty or not) in order to appease the nobles still on the fence.
If the PCs refuse him upfront, he becomes a bitter enemy, and the King solicits their help in the dispute.
Either way, the PCs at some point will probably ask—are we the baddies?
Example Series of Events
Lord Gwain Marthous, newly installed in his manor lands after his “father” expanded his holdings, awaits the arrival of his bride in his new manor home in the obligatory arranged marriage.
Still moving in, short on time, men, and knowledge of the area, he hires the PCs to deal with “a particularly aggressive brown bear.” He pays them well.
Said bear turns out to be a Dire Bear. And it’s rabid. It mauls the Level 1 PCs, but they emerge victoriously.
Lord Marthous is taken aback at the PCs mauling. He doubles their reward and gifts them a hunting cabin in the nearby woods, an excellently furnished vacation home the PCs now can call their own.
Gwain comes calling with a small cask of brandy. Everyone gets drunk. Gwain lays out three things he needs to handle, asking the PCs if they can help him out again. PCs pick one.
During the adventure, the PCs have a random encounter—the abandoned campfire.
Picking up the gold from Marthous, the PCs mention the campfire. Gwain tells them his falconer is overdue.
Adventure ensues to find the lost falconer.
No sooner than they investigate the falconer (some unusual fey thing killed him), Gwain comes to the PC in a panic. A passing merchant found his bride’s carriage overturned, the guards missing, blood everywhere!
This adventure revolves around the PCs’ particular strengths, tailored for their backgrounds, prior contacts, and knowledge of the politics of the area thus far. Bandits kidnapped the Lady (paid by the political enemies of his “father”).
An epic, drawn-out slugfest occurs, and the PCs return the Lady to her Lord. The Lady, who saved her sorcerer powers for just the right time, helps the PCs in any way she can. The DM uses that to save a PC’s life at just the right moment.
Marthous says he can award one PC with knighthood and titled lands befitting his or her new station. He can then make the other PCs official Lord’s Men, men-at-arms with special privileges.
The DM designs a small “bachelor party” adventure, complete with shenanigans and stealing the Bishop’s prized poodle.
Wedding!
Here the DM interjects two or three small adventures/encounters that revolve around the PC’s backstories, drives, or outright stated plans. Homebrew or off the shelf modules work well, here.
Marthous finds out about his real father, and the events outlined in the villain’s description proceed.
That’s just one example of how to tie a bad guy up with the PCs, and this particular route would make Lord Marthous’s betrayal all the more painful. And Marthous is following the despot’s script: after the revolution, to preserve the state, someone must be punished for doing what had to be done, and the ones that did it must fall lest they do it again.
And let them go
For Marthous’ betrayal to hit the players in the gut, they need to be invested in both him, his friendship, and the shared hardship or they all could hang for a tragic mistake. While the above is a linear progression from “Here’s an NPC” to “and now everything goes sideways,” there are numerous spots where the path wanders between a random encounter, a “pick your own adventure,” and adventurers according to PC actions/desires before the festivities start.
But, more importantly, there is a choice. And the PCs might choose to side with the King. And if they do, they have the terrible task of bringing their friend in for justice so he can be drawn and quartered for not only patricide but treason. Indeed, picking this route makes Lord Marthous all the more ruthless. He has nothing to lose and no friends to watch his back.
This is a campaign arc where there are no winners. The campaign starts in earnest with the Bastard Son’s Rebellion and should contain the majority of the campaign’s action cumulating in the only way it can: the PCs facing their former friend in a showdown for the Kingdom. It’s messy, bloody, and personal. At the end of the campaign, the PCs should be the last men and women standing. They are either the hero or the antihero, but whichever path they choose, they were not a lead-by-the-nose zeros.
And now, my friends, at the end of this arc, would be the most excellent time to introduce an outside threat—just when the Kingdom recovered from a rebellion. At her weakest, her real enemies attack.
Tomorrow we’ll go over how to use commercial modules to make them more personal for the players.
