My journeys across Saedyr seem to have come to a close, sadly. But on the bright side, I’ve started a brand new campaign as the DM with a new group of friends, this time set in the Forgotten Realms (well, my version of it). It’s my first foray into ‘high fantasy’ since all my other campaigns have been low-fantasy semi-historical settings.

An Encounter on the Road

Four days on the road from Shadowdale – four days of evading Zhentilar patrols, passing burnt out houses and abandoned farms. Midday was approaching on the fifth day when the road began to rise over the final line of hills before it reached Merridale Falls. The party was weary and the mood was tense. They knew they were deep inside occupied territory and every step they took increased their chance of encountering hostile troops.

Perris Oathkeeper led the party, her inexhaustible Dwarven stamina both inspiring and intimidating her companions. Behind her came Rover the Tabaxi, a sorcerer from a distant land. Rover was draped in a large floppy hat and a heavy robe, hiding his cat-like features from casual view. Samira and Sariel followed, idly comparing notes around various techniques for breaking into things. A strange combination – a high-elf and a gnome, one towering above the other, yet both masterfully adept at their specialties. And at the rear, scanning the road behind for any signs of pursuit, came Corvis the Ranger.

Fresh signs of civilisation were visible – smoke rising from distant crofter’s houses, farmyard sounds carried on the breeze, fresh wheel tracks and even horse manure on the road. Merridale Falls was close, thankfully.

The road curved around a rocky outcrop with a steep drop to their right. As they rounded the bend they saw a fallen tree, blocking the road. A split second later, Perris spied three bodies lying in fresh pools of blood, black-feathered arrows protruding from the chests of two of them. The perfect place for an ambush.

Welcome to the Forgotten Realms!

TLDR: Skip to the session narrative

The Session

This was the opening scenario that my players faced in Session 0. Six of us gathered at The Lost Dice recently for an introductory session to Dungeons and Dragons. Four newbies, an experienced player and I (Dungeon Master) all “got our geeks on” and had a fantastic time rolling dice, eating burgers and learning to play the game. I have played D&D through every edition since the 1970s, but it’s been a couple of years since I DMed a game, so there was a bit more diving into the rulebook than I would have liked, but that’ll improve with practice.

We spent a bit of time exploring characters and understanding what some of the numbers mean, followed by a brief introduction to (my version of*) the Forgotten Realms campaign setting. But the best way to learn the game is to play it, so in we dived. The above narrative describes the point where the party was required to roll for Initiative.

*I keep saying ‘my version of’ – read on…

There was a lot written about the Forgotten Realms in the 1990s and 2000s that is out of print now, and yet the stories they told were interesting and engaging. They form the fabric of the backstories to 5e adventures such as Descent into Avernus, Waterdeep: Dragon Heist, and others (including Baldur’s Gate III and the Honor Amongst Thieves movie), and I think they would make a great setting for a new generation of players.

So I hunted around for older modules from that time with a view to upgrading them to 5e stats. It turns out though that the style of play was very different back in those days; more combat and less role play, very linear stories and (not always but often) a ‘new monster in every room.’

My preferences are to have a setting that is logical and predictable, so that real world-style problems can be solved by real world-style solutions (up to the level of technology available). The ordinary folk of the time are capable of dealing with the natural world, raising a family and working at their occupation or craft. So my stories are set in a world where unnatural occurrences disrupt the natural order, calling for intervention by extraordinary people (adventurers). I don’t like to use dismissive explanations for why a rock floats in the air (“because… magic”). It needs to be caused by something that appears to expend energy (“You see the air below the rock shimmering like a hot summer’s day and the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck start to rise”) and can be justified (if not understood).

So naturally, I had to rewrite these stories and make them my own. I also tweaked the timelines to enable several stories to be stitched together. I started with “Doom of Daggerdale”, renaming it to “A Shadow over Morndale.” Without giving too much away to my players, I hope to expand into the “Return of Randal Morn” series (except he’s now called Rendil Morn since that sounds more ‘fantasy’ than ‘Randal’ to me) followed by one of the higher level campaigns (the Time of Troubles series or perhaps the Tearing of the Weave). It depends on what the players want to do. Again… at the risk of spoilers, I’ve tied this adventure to the Tearing of the Weave campaign right from the beginning.

But enough rambling, on with the story…
 

Ambush the Ambushers

Perris halted and raised her hand as a warning. She slid her shield off her back and into her hand in a single smooth movement and then drew her longsword. A glance up and down the road showed no signs of anything hiding. The midday sun glistened off the spreading pools of blood beneath the bodies. Two of the bodies were human but the third was too large and thickset – it could be an orc or a hobgoblin, but it was hard to tell from this distance.

A clash of metal on metal rang out from the other side of the rise to their left, followed by a painful cry – the fight was continuing just the other side of the ridge. Samira strung her shortbow and crept up to see what was happening. Several men and orcs lay face down on the grass before two heavily loaded wagons. A man was standing on the seat of a wagon keeping five orcs at bay with a polearm. A sixth orc loosed an arrow and felled another human, who collapsed in a spurt of blood.

The wagon driver was alone against six armed orcs.

Samira knocked an arrow and let it fly, hitting one of the orcs squarely in the shoulder. The other orcs took a moment to realise what was happening. Perris stepped forward and hurled her hand-axe at the orcish bowmen, hitting it and spoiling its aim. The orc’s arrow flew wildly away. Corvis crouched behind the ridge and also loosed an arrow at the leader, hitting it again and staggering it. Sariel joined the fray but her arrow went wide and was lost off in the distance.

The wagon horses, already stressed from the swordplay, were rearing and threatening to break loose.

A strange crackling sound came from behind the heroes, like the crunching of ice underfoot. Rover was moving his paws in a mesmerizing, complex spiral. Ice shards were forming on his claws as they drew closer together and then, when they touched, a disembodied hand – almost skeletal – gripped the neck of an orc from behind, the cold chill of the grave draining life from its victim.

The orcs were shocked. They were supposed to be the ones doing the ambushing, not the other way around. They spun around to face their attackers, the polearm-wielding wagon driver forgotten.

The battle raged and the superior armour and training of the orcs began to make a difference. Swords and axes swung, arrows flew and the spectral hand drifted across the clearing. Perris, always in the thick of the fight was surrounded by orcs, beating past her defences. Corvis took a heavy blow and was down, unconscious. Things looked grim. One orc was dead, one was seriously wounded but four still remained, fierce and intent on murder.

A horn rang out. The sound of hooves grew louder until, in a thunderous charge, a band of black-clad horsemen rode through the clearing swinging swords from side to side, slaying and trampling orcs.

And then it was over, all the orcs lay dead.

The leader of the horsemen dismounted and wiped his blade clean while keeping an eye on the party. His companions moved closer, their blades still drawn. “My name is Rendil Morn” he said. “I would that we’d arrived sooner, but I am grateful for your help this day. These foul creatures would have made off with our supplies had it not been for you. Your actions saved the lives of two of my men and the wagons you protected will help save the lives of many more.”

He sheathed his sword and his troops visibly relaxed. Gesturing behind himself, he said “We are but a few brave lads and lasses, and hard pressed to keep our lands free of these Zhentish brutes. I should be grateful if you’d consider joining our cause.” One of his men reached into a case on one of the wagons and pulled out a number of small glass vials labelled “Regnar’s Remedies”, helping Corvin and Perris to drink.

“Are you heading to Merridale Falls? You still have time to make it before nightfall – but do not tarry on the road. There is a strange fever stalking Morndale by night, catching the Dalesfolk asleep and leaving them trapped in their slumber.”

He looked at the party intently, weighing his words. “There’s dark magic at work here, but if you could put an end to it then I would be in your debt. My people deserve better than this, but I am too pressed to spare the men to aid them. Help my people and you will be richly rewarded.”

And with that, Morn mounted his horse and gestured to his troops. They rode away over the hills leading the two wagons, now carrying the bodies of their fallen. One of the warriors hung back, dragged the orcish bodies into cover and then swept over the wagon tracks to discourage pursuit.

And we finished the session there. Great fun!

The Players:
Jas: Perris Oathkeeper – Dwarven fighter
Miles: Corvis of Highmoor – Half-elven ranger
Kalila: Sariel – Moon Elf rogue
Christina: Samira – Gnome rogue
Ben: Rover of the Forsaken Reaches – Tabaxi sorcerer

Until next time…