Scars

Arthur Rackham

Oh, man, it feels good to be thinking about tabletop again. It's been crunch time for the past few months as my wife and I get ready to open up our new restaurant (and later bar!), so tabletop's been on the backburner for a bit.

I have managed, however, to keep the Bone King adventure running every other week (will update soon) and as the campaign played out we noticed some trends. Since the Northern Realm went level-less there are fewer tangible means of 'progressing' outside of accumulating special items or becoming cursed, etc. And yet in the campaign, I couldn't really deny the players the opportunity to learn new things. It seemed only reasonable to add a soft rule for learning new skills and spells, so it was added. But we noticed there were still some big changes in the characters. As they interacted with powerful artifacts, other planes, and alien creatures they became physically changed by the experience. This isn't a new concept at many tables, but since there are no levels and it was such a poignant thing in our current campaign, I thought I'd codify it. So here it is, the Scar mechanic:

Taking part in a story as it unfolds is a reward in and of itself, but for an adventure to be truly immersive, players need to feel like their characters are developing along with it. Scars are tools for adding tangible character and plot development.

Scars are dramatic changes in the makeup of a character. They are also permanent or at least made to feel permanent. When developing story arcs GMs should include moments or things that can radically alter a character. This change should have a real impact and unexpected consequences. For example, while across the veil in the Shadow Realm, Ravenna found a dull silver cup. When she returned to the Material Realm the cup underwent a transformation into a brilliant gold and jewel-encrusted goblet. Now, the GM intends this goblet to play an important role in the story but also to present an opportunity for the characters. If used to drink, Ravenna will become closer to the Shadow Realm, granting her the ability to see invisible things and to randomly slip through dark cracks to spaces beyond. This effect can aid Ravenna as much as it can get her into trouble, as she could randomly slip into a dungeon with no reliable way of coming back and there are also the invisible things that once stole past unnoticed, now visible and very much aware that she can see them.

This illustrates the first aspect of all scars:

1.     Radical change brought on by the story, leading to the second:

2.     A scar is brought on by a character’s actions. A scar should never be forced on a character. That doesn’t mean that players can refuse one when it happens, it just means that a scar must be bought with a measure of known risk. Ravenna drinking from the cup, for example, it’s a strange cup with obvious magical properties. If Ravenna chooses to drink from it then she must accept the consequences. The same goes for entering battle, consulting beings with powers greater than her own, or putting on a ring once worn by a powerful undead king.

3.     Last, a scar should cut both ways. If it would aid more than hinder, then it should have some small aspect with a drawback. Likewise, one that most often hinders should have an aspect that sometimes aids. There are of course exceptions, namely afflictions such as curses and injuries, but keep in mind there should be some avenue to overcoming them (even if it’s just temporary).

As a good rule of thumb, every story arc should include one scar. GMs should prepare an item, creature, place, or moment that could scar at least one character in addition to the random chance characters will become scarred from an injury or encounter.

Wilders

Wilder

Wilders have an instinctive relationship with magic. They are fundamentally connected to it. Magic is as much a part of a wilder as emotions. However, without any formal training or apprenticeship, they must create spells by trial and error requiring incredible perseverance and keen intuition. As a result, wilders can be a danger to themselves and others. There is a strong stigma against wilders and many are forced to hide their talents, while others are driven from their respective communities. Many do not survive to adulthood, but those who do, learn to control their powers and are stronger for it.

Intuitive: A wilder’s Intuition score changes to 4d6.

Spells: A wilder casts spells from any of the four magic types, Demon Magic, Primeval, Sorcery, and Theurgy. Choose only one (it cannot be changed later).

At level 1, a wilder begins knowing 4 + Intellect modifier spells and learns Intellect modifier spells each level thereafter.  She knows only level 1 spells at level one, but then gains access to level 2 spells at level three, and level 3 spells at level six, and last, level 4 spells at level ten. 

Wild Magic (M): Wilders do not use magic the same way as other spellcasters. To cast a spell spend Power equal to the spell’s level and then choose how many Spell Dice to roll regardless of how much Power was spent. In exchange, she activates an identical dice effect based on how many Spell Dice were rolled. If she rolled 1 Spell Dice, no identical dice effect is triggered. If she rolled 2 Spell Dice, trigger one of six identical dice effects for pairs. If she rolled 3 Spell Dice, she triggers one of six effects for triples, and on 4 Spell Dice, trigger one of six effects for quadruples. Roll a single d6 to determine which effect is triggered. Conversely, spells that become cantrips are treated as if she had rolled one less Spell Die (therefore she may roll up to 2 Spell Dice and not trigger an identical dice effect). 

Gifted (M): At level 3, a wilder can spend an immediate action to reroll the identical dice effect from the Wild Magic attribute. 

Perilous (M): At level 6, a wilder can spend Power to change Spell Dice to d8s. Each Power spent changes one Spell Dice from a d6 to a d8. She may spend up to 4 Power in addition to Power spent casting the spell. If a spellcaster attempts to counter a perilous spell, the counterspeller becomes fatigued. 

Strange (M): At level 9, when a wilder casts spells she causes the world around her to change. Depending on her chosen magic type, her spells produce an environmental effect. The environmental effects produced have the following associations: demon magic and shadow, primeval and fae, theurgy and chaos, and last sorcery, a combination of shadow and fae (see Chapter 5: Magic under Magic and the Environment for descriptions). The potency of the spell determines the strength of the environmental effects. The change in the environment lingers for as many hours afterward as spell dice spent casting it. (archetype table)

Leanna the Wilder

Leanna pinched the ring between her thumb and index finger. Rubbing away the dust and grime revealed a plain band, unremarkable except for the fact that it was gold. There was something else, however, not about the ring necessarily, but about how it made her feel. Leanna was keenly aware of it. She’d been living in the woods all her life; you learn to trust your instincts when you have no one else to rely on.

Leanna squatted back down, dipping the ring into the stream to remove the rest of the grime. Once cleaned, she examined it again– even bit it to check the softness of the gold. No teeth marks. Unremarkable indeed. But, gold is gold. It’ll be worth something to the traders on the King’s Road.

Before slipping it into her pocket, Leanna decided to try one more thing. This time she’d use her ‘talent’ to examine it. She placed the ring on a nearby stump and concentrated. Reaching out with her mind, Leanna tapped into her secret power. Suddenly she felt the world around her like never before. She wasn’t just reaching out and touching the ring, she was reaching out and touching everything– the dead leaves, the caterpillars in the trees, the unhatched eggs in the branches above her. Normally when she used her ‘talent’ it felt like standing waste deep in water, she could feel the force of it, but she could keep her feet. This felt like a flood, a torrent of water sweeping her away to wherever it was going.

Only with great effort did she let go. The sudden onset of it was surprisingly taxing. Her hands were on her knees and she was bent over and breathing hard. After a few moments, she regained her breath, but then noticed something strange– the cold metal on her finger. She looked down at her left hand and there was the ring. How...

Leanna’s lived in the woods all her life. Her mother raised her in the small cottage until Leanna was ten when she came down with a fever and died. Ever since Leanna has cared for herself. She doesn’t know if her mother had the ‘talent,’ but her mother knew she did and never feared it.

Leanna found the old ring while wandering the woods gathering firewood. She doesn’t often visit the town nearby, but the experience with the ring and her ‘talent’ scared her. Unsure of what to do, she realized how long it’d been since she thought about her mother. Hours went by sitting in her little cottage, the wood still piled in the fireplace unlit. Staring at the ring on her finger, Leanna had one question running through her mind over and over again, “Get rid of the ring or try again?”

 

__________________________

Updates
 
After some feedback I've added a little bit more differentiation between the three archetypes. The change is in regards to Power. It's subtle, but it could also amount to a lot. Basically, every character used to begin with 5 + Will modifier Power. Now the default is WIll modifier Power, then based on your archetype choice, you may gain a bonus at level 1. The breakdown is as follows:

-Specialists do not gain a bonus 
-Mixed Bag characters gain +1d6 Power at level 1
-Magic Users gain +2d6.

Be Still

“Father, I’m afraid to die.”

“Oh, Ása, why are you thinking of such things? Death is a long way off yet.”

“But I will die, won’t I? I don’t want to die. I want to play with you and Mother and Bard forever.”

“But daughter, I will die. And so will Mother and Bard. Everything dies. And when the time comes, kind Thyra or stern Stigr will come take you away.”

“Aelfs don’t die.” 

“Well–”

“And what if Thyra or Stigr don’t come?”

“Ása.”

“But Father, did you see Thyra when grandfather passed? Or Stigr in battle? How do you know they will come?”

“I don’t, Ása. I don’t. I’ve never seen aelfs and I’ve never seen Thyra or Stigr. I cannot promise you they will come. No one knows what lies ahead. Do not fear the end, my daughter. You are still wild and young.  I’ve seen you in the fields with Bard and Aulay. I think you are fearless. No matter where life takes you. You will rise in the morning with the sun and you will live. Be still, Ása, and close your eyes. Don’t worry about tomorrow. I will always be here. And when it’s time for me to pass, I will wait for you and hold your hand as we fade away.”

For a few moments Ása looked up at her father, then the tension left her face and she shut her eyes.

Balder rose from her bedside but stopped in the doorway. For many more minutes he watched Ása. Her breathing slowed as she passed into dreams. Balder rested two large thumbs in his belt as he pondered. Only Ása could make him prefer Thyra to Stigr.

 Sweet dreams Ása. 

The Free City Campaign

A few weeks ago I had a conversation with a guy on Reddit about running a city campaign with players that can come in and out of the campaign, and it got me thinking about a campaign we ran for The Northern Realm version 1.

The idea was this:

Set up at least 3 or 4 power groups, maybe even two resistance groups so there's some push and pull in the city. Players can play the groups off each other or secretly be involved with multiple groups or not so secretly, and you could add in players as they meet with each organization. The new players could be either a part of the new organization or contracted by the new organization or somehow involved with them (and the question of allegiances will lend to intrigue).

We did this with my playgroup and even though we only added players one time throughout the campaign, we did add tons of regular NPCs and it was pretty fluid. We had two government groups, one the establishment, the other seemingly 'free-er' rising power that later backstabbed us, a thief group made up of individual cells who also ended up being something other than what they seemed, and a powerful collector with tons of people working for him. Later a few more groups were introduced. I think the important thing is to give the groups a good reason to exist and clear motives. Then essentially you can introduce anyone you want because you could come from so many different angles.

Our GM set the tone within the city when we entered the city gates. The guards were turning people away. They were also rude and combative. If we hadn't name dropped a middle-ranking member of the ruling party we wouldn't have got in. So clearly right off the bat we were set up to feel resentful or at least wary of them. Then it immediately kicked off with us witnessing and stopping a theft as we entered the city. So this became our intro to the collector. We learned from him that the increased security and paranoia at the gate had more to do serial murders happening in the southern quarter by a perpetrator known only as the carver. Rumor had it that the carver was murdering people in the streets and taking one hand of his victims as a trophy. 

Then at some point wandering around the city for the collector caught the attention of the thieves guild who nabbed and interrogated us. I can't remember exactly how we ended up talking to the rival government party but I think we found some old writing and references about something that was haunting our dreams. At any rate, we were involved in a confrontation with them and the ruling party. Then shit got a little crazy as we learned to only trust individuals and not any of the parties jerking us around. I'd really have to write it out in many pages so I'll just end with we were betrayed, one of our NPC party member's mind was assimilated by his brother, who had invaded his mind and was slowly taking him over from day 1, and one of the old gods (vampires) was waking in the burial chambers of the city and attempting to subtly manipulate people within the city to uncover his remains. It got very convoluted but we had a year to go through it. Suffice to say we ended up fleeing the city with his remains.

Best campaign we ever did.

If you want to piece together what we did here's background of the city and conflict:

Free City (City, 113,700): The Free City is one of the largest cities on the continent. It is the oldest human city in Rhen. Thousands of years ago, the still young Nobles gathered the human tribes and taught them building techniques. Under their direction, the immortal Nobles and humans built their capital. This city became the capital of the Noble Dominion and it was named Gorhithe.

When the Noble Dominion fell it was renamed Freorice (which in Ancient Common is Free Realm), and Gorhithe renamed Aerden, the Free City. The peace and jubilation, however, lasted only one short year as the politics of the city again plunged the country into war. And after decades of strife, there was peace again and a king. He named the new kingdom Storgeard. But the king and the aristocracy held power only a short time, until becoming supplanted by the Optimits who then named the land the Free Realm, in honor of history and called the capital simply, the Free City. 

Quickly this ancient city grew under the Optimits, until its population burst the walls. The city expanded to the western banks of the Stor River. Towns grew within view of the city walls. It was not until the bloodless conquest of the Free Realm by United Kelet that the size of the Free City finally contracted. Since then the population of the Free City has decreased, but the towns around it expanded. This has served to enrich the Free Realm. The country prospered as trade passed between the towns. In recent years, the Free City has had a second boom, again rapidly expanding across the Stor River. But a sudden and brief war between the Free Realm and the Grey of Lwydgalon, successfully pushed the expansion to inside the city walls. As a result, the southern half of the city is now overly populated. Crime is very high in this section of the city, but tolerated, as it does not usually spread beyond the south district. The central district is the most affluent in the city, protected by the old walls of Gorhithe, and built on the foundations of its once magnificent citadel. At its center are the Free City Library and the Grand Hall, where the High Council meets. These remarkable structures are visible from all around the city. Affluent denizens of human countries come to the Free City to study the arcane arts. Even the aristocratic families of Kelet are known to send their children to the Free City. It is partly for this reason that the Free City is rich. Tuition for the arcane school in the Free City Library is staggering.

At the present the tense atmosphere within the Free City is palpable. Conflict between the Optimits and Artificers seems inevitable. Rumors of the Havren, a mysterious shadow group has reached more ears than ever before. For the first time in decades the citizens worry about the north section of the city, where a tall stone wall prevents anyone from entering. This section of the city has been off limits for as long as anyone can remember. There is very little in the history books of the Free City Library that describe the city beyond the north walls, either because the records are lost, or the High Council has made it forbidden reading.

The symbol for the Free City is a white chrysanthemum. Symbols and banners of the chrysanthemum are proudly displayed throughout the city. 

The main players:

Artificers: The Artificers are a new group in the Free City founded only fifty years ago. Members of the Free City Library researching new means of tapping into the arcane began organizing as a means of sharing research. What began as an assembly of young wizards quickly became a political movement opposite the Optimits. The Optimits’ oppressive rules restricting access to young wizards to certain wings of the Free City Library caused conflicts that sometimes turned violent. These rules required either the wizard be a staff member (whom are mostly members of the Optimits) or a sworn member of the Optimits in order to gain access to restricted material. Further, the Optimits overt prevention of non-wizards from rising through the social ranks upset the influence of the large craft guilds in the Free City, who had grown wealthy, but remained unable to lobby for favorable policies in the city. With the encroachment of the growing Merchant Guild, members of the craft guilds turned to the Artificers. An alliance of the two groups led to further advances in the Artificer’s political position in the Free City and also led to unique achievements in the study of magic. The insignia for the Artificers is a hammer suspended over an open book.

Optimits:  : The Optimits are a premiere group of wizards that formed long before they took the name Optimit. They once bore the name of Servants, in mockery of the Thegn. The Servants learned under the Nobles, the masters of the Noble Dominion. When the Noble Dominion was overthrown the Servants survived, biding their time until they could revive the organization under a new name. One thousand years later, the goals of the Optimits moved away from serving the Masters to maintaining order. With the rise of the Artificers the challenge of controlling the citizens of the Free Realm becomes increasingly difficult. With the stress of dealing with the Artificers, the increasingly powerful Merchant Guild, and the aristocracy, elements of the Optimits that have not forgotten their loyalty to the long dead Masters are growing more influential. The Optimits have direct control over the Marshals and Constables in rural areas and neighboring towns. Within the Free City the Optimits control security and most Free City Library staff members. The Optimits are constantly at odds with the Artificers; nevertheless, they maintain some amount of influence over them by way of threat of force and by closing certain wings of the Free City Library. The insignia for the Optimits is a chrysanthemum crossed with a sword suspended over a closed book. 

Havren: To hear of the Havren in the Free City is to know them as boogeymen. Stories told to children so that they do not misbehave. Only sometimes are they called crows– an old story for an old name. The crow is their seal. Powerful members of the Optimits know them as so, and guard its secret. Few outside of the Optimits are aware that they truly exist, and even fewer understand their purpose. A secret society, the Havren are an ancient organization that once served under one of the Seven. The Havren exist primarily in the Free City. Seldom, when the need is great, the Havren will send agents beyond the walls of the city. One Havren cell acts as a clandestine Guild of Thieves. The Havren have strange motives and strange magic. Indeed, no books in the Free City Library teach the powers of the Havren.

The Havren have a peculiar and torrid past. They predate the Optimits by hundreds of years, when man still lived in nomadic tribes. The Havren use a mental form of magic. The unique nature of Havren magic makes it difficult to ascertain, thus lending to their secretiveness. The Havren currently act as a balancing lever to the Artificer and Optimit conflict, a role it’s played once before. The Havren’s ultimate goal is not clearly understood by outsiders, even the Optimits. It seems however, that the Havren seek to maintain status quo, but that’s only part of it. Certainly the Havren obstruct change in the Free City, but they also act to keep the old masters of the city from returning, and likewise keep their remains from being destroyed.

The main conflicts:

Plots in the background:  

1. The call of the box hidden in the forbidden north district, inside are the remains of the long dead Master, Valak.

2. The tenuous rivalry between the Artificers and the Optimits.

Plot in the foreground:

1. The One Who is Three:

Every few generations, an individual will come forth bearing the title of Mishha’Hreg. Also called The One Who is Three, it is a being that is created through the fusion of three personalities. The Havren seem contradictory in their expectation that their followers execute the will of the order while they actively recruit individuals who are divergent in their personalities. This contradiction is personified in the creation of the One Who is Three.

The goal is to foster the formation of three distinct individuals whose differences become fully formed in adulthood. These are typically described as the Right Hand of the Will, the Eyes of the Mind and the Name of the First. The Right Hand is an active and direct personality, the Eyes is a perceptive and empathic mind and the Name is obsessive and consuming. However, a mutual affinity must also be formed to facilitate the final step. Once all three reach the height of their personalities and difference, the Name will kill the others and absorb their consciousness. It is in this way that they can form an individual who has lived three different lives through three separate perspectives. The Havren believe that such an individual can lead them through a trying time or bring about a paradigm shift that great events occasionally calls for. However, it is important to note that the Mishha’Hreg would be a single personality without internal conflict. All three lose their distinctiveness and the resulting individual becomes a committed follower and acolyte of the Havren.  

The Name of the First: Éamon, an NPC party member we met mysteriously in the previous town.
The Right Hand of the Will: Jainen, a master thief you meet through the collector
The Eyes of the Mind: Silk, the head of one Havren cell whose front is the thieves' guild.

Éamon joined our party in the previous adventure. Little did we know Éamon's mind housed that of Alaric, Jainen and Silk's brother, whom they had murdered (arguably for good reason) and left for dead in the swamps around Beldonshire (the town we were in). Somehow before his death he had called Éamon a low-level Havren to him and transferred his mind to him. But Éamon resisted and Alaric could only slowly take over his mind, therefore, we the party, didn't realize what was happening until the climax of the campaign. Anyway, with a stranger's face in Éamon and the estrangement of the two brothers Silk and Jainen after the murder of Alaric, we were set up to meet them all one at a time and slowly put puzzle pieces together, leading to an exciting end that took us from the gates of the Free City, to the manor of a friend, then the Free City Library, the south district, sewers, prison cells, and finally to the northern district and the ruins of Gorhithe.


The small plots:  

1.The carver murders (a plot by the Optimits to distract the populace) 

2. The collector and his ties to Jainen the thief.

3. The Palace of Memory, a construct in all Havren's mind (and of particular interest, in Éamon's mind). A linked telepathic spell would gain us entrance into his mind.

 

Anerrim the Knight

Knights are called by many different names, depending on the culture. The Rasnians famously employ clibanarii, skilled knights with lamellar armor that specialize in riding, bow shooting, and employing an array of weapons, especially the lance and mace. In the highland plains of Kelet, knights are predominantly man-at-arms and mounted cavaliers. The Vann folk call their elite foot soldiers, huscarls. The Crocána prefer cataphracts. And in the human realms there are various orders of knights. Ultimately these skilled warriors are derived from the knight class. There is, however, differentiation in their equipment, and choice of skills.

The most veteran knights reside in the aelfen and dunaelfen kingdoms. The dunaelfs of Maetra are in constant conflict. They’ve had only a few years of peace in a hundred since the Aelf War. Their skills are unmatched by all but the aelfs, especially the Tegeans. Tegeans are raised in militant households. Their discipline is unrivaled. They have many human lifetimes of experience and are well practiced in the chaos of battle.

Greater still are the wanderers. They are found in the most unlikely of places. In Gealdor, legends of fairy folk stealing away children and replacing them with changelings or fell creatures are commonly known. Beyond Gealdor these stories sound fantastic and unreal, but some residents of those mist-laden hills know them to be true. Many of these children return to their birthplaces years later as strange people. The residents of Gealdor accept these estranged wanderers as children of the fae, fated to achieve great things. They are no longer the children of their birthparents, now they are the princes and princesses of the fae. Some male children return from the great halls of trolls adorned with enchanted armor and weapons. These knights are champions of myth with mysterious powers.  

ANERRIM THE KNIGHT

I remember blood spraying across my face as the marishi’ s body fell backwards against my shield. Though the loss of my spell-slave was regrettable, it was admittedly only a matter of time before he had gotten himself killed. The caster never took direction, no matter how many times he had been flogged. But I digress. The tulclenar had the high ground and because of the fog it was difficult to determine the number of their reinforcements or their location. I used my whistle to signal a short withdrawal down a few paces off the slick slope. The lands of these foreigners seemed to be made entirely of mud and water. The bowmen in the center of our unit shot at the tulclenar during the tactical retreat but their missiles glanced harmlessly off their fine plate armor. The effect was similar to the efforts of my caster. The streams of force and fire he had thrown at them seemed to wash over them like rain. Truly, these were men of iron ore. Yet, they were not of unearthly durability. Six slain tulclenar lying in these highland mists could attest to the efficacy of Rasna’ s pikes and a well-trained skirmish line. Still, our losses were unacceptable. I could ill afford the eight deaths; a full sixth of our force. It was time to use the mindless savagery of these beasts to our own advantage. With the shout of a single command, the unit broke formation and retreated. The soldiers fanned out in apparent disarray, with my bowmen and lancers weaving in seeming randomness.

The shield bearers would be hard pressed to keep up but that was why they trained with double the standard kit. A glance over my shoulder confirmed that some tulclenar had taken the bait. The strange battle cry of our opponents was answered by a single shrill blast of my whistle. The bowmen immediately coalesced around me. After a few paces, my command halted them. They turned and shot their marks as one. I smiled with satisfaction as one found its target in the eye socket of a surprised tulclen’s mask. Within a second, lancers at the center, secur sacniar at the flanks and the shield bearers at the skirmish line surrounded the defenseless archers. If the tulclenar were of iron, than surely we were men of quicksilver. The tulclenar had committed themselves and crashed into the shields haphazardly. While they were ferocious and skilled, their lack of cohesion made them easy targets for pikes striking from a multitude of angles. However, it was not hard to see that we had dispatched a minority of their force. Most had stayed with their chieftain and were advancing in a solid grouping.

I commanded the injured to be cycled back and replaced. I sheathed my arming sword and withdrew the mace, commanding bearers to do the same and the secur sacniar to form up in preparation for throwing their axes. The next moments would decide whether it was tulclenar flesh that appeased Vanth’s hunger, or our own.

Hason, first macstrna of third zeri

Anerrim put down the manuscript and rubbed his eyes. Vanth. Likely the god that was the source of Vantin, the Crocána name for the third day of the week. Perhaps, the forgotten deity had been a patron of violence? According to the scant remains of their ancestor's literary corpus, they had once been a proud culture of warriors. But Crocáno had not fielded an army of native soldiers in hundreds of years. What kind of fighters and tactics would be effective? Could the answers lie within memoirs of long-dead generals like Hason? Or was the fighting spirit of Crocáno lost like the cults of the old gods? He glanced over at his own expertly crafted lamellar coat, presented to him by the Patriarch himself. The time would soon come for Vanth to be appeased again.

Anerrim is a high-ranking officer in the city of Crocáno. Like most nobles, he is well versed in the arts of fencing and a lifelong student of military history. His father had drilled his family’s soldiers to the point that other nobles joked about them being automatons, but the investment may soon prove its worth. The situation in Kelet is spiraling out of control and the demand for disciplined and intelligent knights like Verra, is surging.

 

Kilagh the Alchemist

Alchemists are talented magicians, some innately gifted, others studious tinkerers, devious mad scientists, and engineers of magic. They pore over old tomes and experiment in labs, creating and destroying, all the while developing an affinity to sorcery. It is said that an alchemist’s relationship with his craft transcends mere spellcraft, as the spells he casts affect him as much as they do the material world.

Most alchemists come from the Free City. Within the city, many are members of the growing Artificer movement, where they have grown in power and influence over the last century. As the Artificer movement has grown, it has challenged the establishment and the Optimit led oligarchy that rules it. The Artificers are tremendously popular with the lower class as they represent an opposition to the Optimits. However, the Artificers do not, in reality, aspire to overthrow the Optimit dominated government, neither do they represent the interests of the lower class.

Nevertheless, in the face of growing intimidation from the Optimits, some alchemists have moved into the rural areas of the Free Realm. In the countryside, an alchemist has open space and privacy. There he is free to experiment away from the watchful eyes of the Optimits. Travelers may find the strangest alchemist creations in the fiefs around the Free City. Further south there is also a growing movement in the city of Crocáno. As more alchemists migrate to Crocáno they encourage the like-minded to break from the traditional schools of magic and establish an Alchemical Guild separate from the preeminent Magicians Guild.

HADDEN THE ALCHEMIST 

Two bodies lay misshapen at the entrance, another slumped against the far wall, bloodied and dead. The knell of steel on steel and the heat of fire was overwhelming. Two more heavily armored kinsmen bounded into the hall. Behind them, iron thudded on stone, growing louder and nearer. “Stand clear of the door!” Kilagh summoned the familiar energies, first sending a warmth throughout his core that spread to his fingers, and burst into a ball of fire that exploded out the entryway.

Two companions stood angular to the egress, maintaining a clear path for Kilagh’s magic. “How many have made it through?” Kilagh shouted the question at the warriors in front of him.

“They’ve broken the gate; the forward guard is slaughtered. There was fighting in the grand hall, but it was a retreat.” Answered one of the warriors.

“So we are cut off,” replied Kilagh. He could hear more heavy steps outside. Kilagh summoned the energy again and blasted another whirling sphere of flame into the passageway. As it flew past the entry, shining metal revealed three figures rounding the corner and caught the ball of fire on their shields. In an instant, they were through the door and assailing the defenders. The warriors held the three attackers from Kilagh, but were quickly becoming overwhelmed. Four more entered behind them. In desperation Kilagh summoned energy from deep within, he could feel it burning his body inside and out. It traveled from his heart, to his limbs, joints, hands, and finally to his fingers where it erupted out as three beams of light, striking the first three assailants in the chest. Their armor instantly melted onto their bodies and burned their beards. All three collapsed charred, dying in agony.

The four others spent a moment in surprise before charging at Kilagh through the defenders. Once again he conjured the fire, like an inferno the light ripped through three more bodies, dropping them immediately. His soul felt on fire, his eyes were mad with rage and power. Walking to the passage with his hands upraised, the warriors behind him dispatched the remaining Maetrian and followed Kilagh. “We will burn them, my brothers! They will come and they will burn.”

Kilagh is a dunaelf. He is the spellmaster of Bridlic, a border fortress in the north. Bridlic has come under siege many times in the past seven years. In East Naerod, war is constant. Kilagh must aid his people in protecting the northern border from Maetra, but the invaders seem to have the upper hand.

Hekran the Wizard

Wizard, also known as a mage and sorcerer, are students of magic. In a wizard’s lifetime, she may accumulate the knowledge of hundreds of spells. Her life is devoted to sorcery and understanding its inner workings. The greatest of wizard schools is found in the Free City. Wizards hailing from Kelet dream of visiting the Free City’s massive library, though few get the chance. In Crocáno wizards channel most their energy into researching new and creative uses for spells and methods of wielding them. Outside of human kingdoms, aelfen wizards make long studies of old tomes and have in their long lifetimes created many unique spells. Naerodians are known to pore over old spellbooks and create unique incantations of their own design as well.

Wizards sometimes adventure out of sheer curiosity. They are regularly held up in their study rooms for weeks at a time. Adventures offer a welcome respite. Other reasons include research, investigative work, and aiding settlements that lack magical solutions for a multitude of problems.

HEKRAN THE WIZARD

Hekran narrowed his eyes as the guttering candle feebly lit the small stone chamber around him. He rifled through the leaves of vellum, scanning over the spidery letters. He briefly lifted his eyes as a yell of alarm echoed from beyond the hallway outside. His companions had been discovered and would soon be staging a hopeless battle against the abandoned library's new occupants. He would only have a few more moments. It had to be here somewhere.

"Hekran!" The voice of Benjan was coming from directly in front of him. He hadn't heard the mercenary enter the room. How much time had passed since the fighting began? "We have to get out of here. Now! Helaen is hurt. We need your help to fight our way to escape." Hekran did not take his eyes from the illuminated manuscript that now held his attention. "Hekran!" The warrior's bloody gauntlet gripped the mage's robe. He looked up in annoyance. Hekran called to mind the binding thoughts that would force the stone around him to cloak his unseen slave in materiality. With the utterance of the True Words, a hulking figure led the disgruntled fighter down the hallway. Minutes passed. How many before Hekran fervently clutched his heart's desire and began rolling it up was beyond his guess. At that same moment, he heard the clack of toenails as the ghoul entered the room. So, his companions had perished. Before the creature could take another step, the young mage blew out the candle and walked through the shadows around him.

"You made it out! I had you marked for dead! What about the others? Did they...?" The mage gave only the briefest shake of his head as a reply to the cleric. He was too busy examining his new acquisition to respond verbally.

"Gods, what cursed luck. Poor souls. May the Three Ladies guide them home."

"Three dead and all we have to show for it is that crusty lamb skin." The thief spat on the ground in disgust. "This had better be worth the trouble."

"No, no trouble." Hekran whispered absently. He caressed the unnaturally black ink that seemed to have etched itself into the parchment's surface. An acid perhaps? "No trouble at all."

Hekran is a wizard from the Free City. The child of a noble family, it was beyond question that he would be educated at the Citadel. He was fortunate to come from sufficient wealth to afford such privileged training, and doubly so to have practiced in the Free Realm. Where else could he pursue the intellectually rigorous form of sorcery that would lay bear all of nature's secrets to him? Where else would he not only be safe from persecution for studying necromancy, but actively funded to embark on a mission to acquire lost tomes in the Free City's north quarter. People from Hekran's background often feel a sense of entitlement, even to the point of self-righteousness. For Hekran, issues of class or politics are immaterial. He cares little about the cleric’s motivations for being in the city, or for the thief's treachery, or for the lives of his fallen companions. For Hekran, the thirst for mastery overrides all concerns.

Meriac the Bard

Sound, rhythm, music reacts powerfully with the stuff of magic. A few rightly played notes not only induce strong emotions in the listener, but also tap into the latent magic in all things. Bards are those gifted musicians, singers, performers that have become skilled in utilizing this conduit to harness supernatural power. In many cultures bards are simply magicians, in others druids, soothsayers, and mages. They are spellcasters in their own right, with their own methods and expertise.

Bards appear all across the Northern Realm. Traveling bards are the delight of Keleti nobles and a welcome respite from the hurts and wariness of constant conflict. There are many paying lords and taverns willing to hire a bard for his services. Still others travel from place to place aiding those in need. In Crocáno, they wander the cobbled streets of the huge city playing for guildhalls, taverns, and rich merchants, while others come in search of apprentices. In Gealdor there is a glut of talented musicians, the best of which travel between villages, some as far as the halls of House Norrum in Domov. Many bards in Gealdor fill the role of druids. In aelfen lands they are perhaps the most learned. Throughout the Northern Realm bards wander the lands. They are not relegated to storytellers and minstrels. They are the most versatile of classes. Many are champions, swashbucklers, enchanters, freedom fighters, advisors, and more. 

  MERIAC THE BARD  

“... and thus ends the tale of Ivrin, the Man Who Sold His Death!” Meriac flourished his traveling cloak in a grandiose bow. The patchwork of colors that lined his garment seemed to cascade all around him and the tavern patrons applauded him uproariously.

“Well, I’m sorry dear friends but the night is closing in and I must be on my way.” Meriac couldn’t help but smirk at the cacophony of boos and moans at this announcement. “But allow me to leave you with one memory you shant soon part with. For this, I’ll need a volunteer... Yes! You sir, step up here with me. Now I’d like you to assure these good people, you have never met me before.” At this there were scattered guffaws. As if a noble would keep company with a traveling entertainer. “I would like you to check my pockets carefully... and now my sleeves if you would be so kind. Satisfied? Now for the tricky part. Watch closely.” A hush fell over the crowd. With a wave of his hand and an incantation under his breath, Meriac found himself in an alley outside.

The rain was falling quite hard from the black sky, and he could hear no sound from beyond the tavern wall. The silence was soon broken by near-deafening cheers, applause, and laughter. Meriac shook his head disapprovingly. A serving maid had nearly seen him pocket the noble’ s purse. Thank the gods she was knocked over by that drunken patron. He whistled as he walked nimbly over the slick cobblestones. Next time, he would be more careful.

Meriac is a bard currently living in Crocáno. He hails from Gealdor, which instilled in him not only a love of adventure, but his acumen in storytelling. He has traveled through Rhen, picking up skills (and picking pockets) as he traveled south. Settling in Crocáno was the obvious choice for now. They knew the worth of a well-performed tale or song, and both poor and rich alike would pay in their measure. However, he is grateful for his stays in other parts of the realm. His brief stint as a thrall to a Vann chieftain gave him more words, stories, and honed his escape skills. And he wouldn’t have a quarter of his magic tricks had he not been an aide to that crotchety old wizard from Evleen Lake. His own purse is now heavy with gold and these lamp-lit streets have grown perhaps a bit too familiar. For Meriac, every location is a training ground, every person a teacher and every situation an opportunity.