The first full moon of Michaelmas

The darkening nights, the curling leaves, that smoky tang in the chill air -- and to really mark the coming of autumn here's a new issue of Casket of Fays, the Dragon Warriors 'zine. It's the usual high quality blend of scenarios and articles by what I maintain to be the top creative team in roleplaying games today. There are grave knights, poisons, saints, magic items, micro-games, creatures, adventure seeds, and much more.

I especially liked Dominic Bailey's descriptions of a bunch of NPC priests, showing the many faces that the True Faith can have, because both PC and NPC priests are proving troublesome in the Helfax campaign I'm playing in at the moment.

There's also an expanded version of Stanley Barnes's DW rules conversion of Blood Sword sages which we looked at here a while back.

What will it cost? To you, nothing. And as if a free 32-page magazine isn't enough, you also get the second part of Andrew Wright's traveller's tale cum adventure seed, "Marauders of the Azure Main", complete with maps of the Mungoda coast.

And there's also exciting news at last from Serpent King Games, stirring from their lair as the balefires of the season flare out in the gathering dusk. Next month we are promised The Cursed King with Robert Dale's eagerly awaited Brymstone following early in 2025. All this just in time for Dragon Warriors' 40th anniversary. Don't miss it!

Hear ye! Hear ye!

"There are going to be at least twelve Dragon Warriors books, surely," said the chief sales rep at Transworld as he drove me and Oliver around the country to run demo games for the book buyers.

That was thirty-five years ago, before the distributors messed up (they sent all the copies of DW book 1 to one part of the country, all the copies of book 2 to another) and the foreign rights department turned down a gold-plated deal from Gallimard.

Well, stuff happens. Dragon Warriors stopped at book 6, The Lands of Legend, and one calamitous consequence of that was Robert Dale's brilliant campaign set around the town of Brymstone never reached the wider audience it deserved.

Actually, part of it did get published a few years later. Jamie and I were offered the editorship of a new RPG magazine to be called Red Giant. We turned the job down (the title was the sticking point) but we did recommend the publishers get in touch with Robert about serializing Brymstone.

Red Giant sadly only lasted two issues, but roleplayers had got a glimpse of Brymstone at least. Over the years, its reputation rightly grew. But it's been like finding the Finnesburg Fragment -- until now, because (fanfare please) Serpent King Games have done a deal with Robert Dale to release his complete, definitive, remastered Brymstone. Read about it here.

I gather it's going to be a big book but (continuing last week's theme) none of that is extraneous padding or overscripted acts and beats. It's a true sourcebook packed with everything you'll need to run freeform adventures with Brymstone as a base -- the NPCs, key locations, rivalries, alliances, grudges, folktales, customs, and adventure seeds -- whether or not your player-characters engage with the épine dorsale, namely Robert's compelling central plotline of gathering danger, dread and doom.

Talking of the central plot, the big bad of this book is the Brollachan, a mythical creature with no true form that's said to take the shape of what you most fear -- or those you most trust. I still feel a shudder when I remember our encounters with it in Robert's original campaign. Dragon Warriors players have a treat in store.

Life and death are only a dice roll away!

Only a dice roll away? That's never been truer than now for most of us, but while you're battening down the hatches there's no need to lose all contact with the outside world. My gaming group have been looking at Discord, Roll20 and Zoom for roleplaying and Vassal Engine for boardgames.

James Desborough ran a Dragon Warriors game the other night, and as you can see it's almost as good as playing face to face. Even better than face to face, perhaps, if your friends are scattered all over the country and find it hard to get along to an in-person session.

If you've been waiting for the right time to snap up all the Dragon Warriors books, Serpent King Games have them in a Bundle of Holding for the next couple of weeks. And I'm now talking to SKG about them publishing Jewelspider, which would mean wider distribution and more artwork -- which the proceeds of the Bundle of Holding sale will help pay for. See, there's always a silver lining.

A Ballad of Times Past - part four

Here is the final instalment of our Yuletide Dragon Warriors adventure. You can pick up the books from DriveThruRPG here. And don't go sneaking a peek at today's post if you're going to be playing in someone else's game, now, will you?

Fifth Part: The Hermit’s Cottage
Shortly after midday (or late afternoon if trapped by the faerie storyteller), you reach the edge of the forest, A few hundred yards on the river forks in two. A low cottage with a blue wisp of smoke curling from its squat stone chimney stands on the river bank, a woodpile beside it and a small boat beyond.

GM: Erik Iceheart waits inside the cottage for the party. He and Caedmon arrived hours ago, murdered the trapper who dwelt here, and hid his body in the woodpile. They left the woods some way to the west. Their footprints, now partially obscured by fresh snow, will be found only if the party specifically scouts around. Caedmon has gone on to Talionis’ lair alone, leaving Erik to deal with the pursuers.

You are some fifty paces from the cottage when a man wrapped in thick furs emerges from it. Approaching you, he introduces himself as Jorundr the trapper and gruffly warns you that if you mean to rob him he will put up a good fight. He pushes away his cloak, revealing his scabbarded greatsword.

‘We intend you no harm, good fellow,’ says Osric. ‘We are the king’s men, on a mission most holy for our liege. We must cross the river here, and I ask only that you lend us your boat.’

Jorundr grumbles, but eventually accedes. ‘The boat only holds three,’ he points out, ‘I’ll row the last two across so I can bring the boat back afterwards.’

GM: Erik’s plan is to wait until the last two are about to cross, and then attack them. After putting them down, he will then take cover in the cottage to avoid any arrows the others may shoot at him from the far bank. After waiting for the party to leave, he will track them and pick them off. If the party decide not to cross the river here, for some reason, he’ll misdirect them and follow the latter tactic. If at any stage Erik thinks he is in serious personal danger, he’ll either flee or bargain for his life with information. He is very canny, remember and will demand a holy oath from the party that he goes free and unharmed if he keeps his side of the bargain.

The party’s map shows that the dragon’s lair is at the head of one of the two branches of the river, but which branch? A close look will reveal that the western branch is faster-flowing and slightly warmer. This is because it flows through the heat of the lair at its source. The eastern branch will be found to be frozen over half a mile upstream.

The Final Part: Into the Dragon’s Lair
It is now late on the night of the winter solstice. Stars glitter in the sky like hoarfrost. You have followed the river into the foothills. The river is considerably warmer here, melting the ice and snow on its banks. Trudging up a sleep slope, you see where the river gushes from a fissure. After stooping to pass through, you light torches to reveal a winding passage through which the river flows. You are on a rock ledge barely wide enough for two to walk abreast. The other wall, some 20m away, holds a still narrower ledge on that side of the river.

GM: The ledge is slippery. Traversing it takes four rounds and each character must check each round to see if he slips. Treat this exactly like a climb with a Difficulty Factor of 10. Anyone who slips will get one final chance to roll reflexes or less on 1d20 to grab the edge before sliding into the river. If they were nearer the wall, they also bowl anyone alongside them into the water as well. Up to three characters can grab at a falling companion, needing to roll reflexes or less on 1d20 to get a good grip. If at least two people can grab him, the character is saved otherwise he is swept away and drowns.

After what seems like hours of tortuously traversing the ledge, you round a bend and enter a cavern through which the river flows. There is more space now, at least six metres between the wall and the water, and you may quickly reorganise your battle order before advancing. It is much warmer, and you throw off your heavy furs.

The river issues from another passage about twelve metres ahead. Beside this is a pile of fallen rocks— and something else, something gleaming like ivory. The bony corpses of several long dead warriors. Their bones are very white: cobwebs veil their eyeless sockets; tattered flesh hangs from their limbs; their weapons and scraps of armour gleam bright and clean. You feel your skin crawl as the skeletons rise from the dust and move out to block your path.

As you prepare for combat, a slight form resting on an oak staff emerges from the shadows of the passage ahead. He brushes some dust from his fingers. There are only two pouches at his belt now. He gives you a last look of mingled amusement and regret, and turns back into the darkness.

GM: Caedmon has used his Reanimate the Dead spell on some fighters slain by Talionis over the years. The number of zombies is one more than the number of the party, up to a maximum of eight. Treat them as zombies even though they really don’t have that much flesh on them now – a more accurate term in this culture would be draugar. Given the scarcity of magic, the characters will never have encountered the undead outside of mead-hall stories, so get them each to make a morale check (Dragon Warriors, page 122) against an effective ATTACK of 15. A character who fails won’t flee, but will be rooted to the spot (able to defend but not attack) for 1-6 rounds.

For a moment you survey with horror the grisly forms of your fallen foes, then remember the urgency of your mission and press on. After another 10m or so, the tunnel opens into a chamber. The river flows from a vivid blue pool over which hangs a soft mist. Deep below its clear waters, you can make out the bones of old dragons. Another tunnel going deeper into the mountain leads from this chamber...

GM: This is the Pool of the Wyrm’s Ancestors from which the king drank. One sip will give the drinker fleeting images of the future—nothing very specific, and not of the immediate future. A second sip at any time has a 50% chance of causing insanity (Dragon Warriors, p. 124); and any further sips guarantee insanity. The water loses this magical property, and its colour (why the river isn’t blue) five seconds after leaving the pool, so it is of no use if taken away for later use.

The party will have no time to investigate the pool now. If they help Talionis against Caedmon, she will offer them each a sip later, and warn them that they must never take more than one sip. The vision each character has is up to the GM. It should be something that will be of use to the character. For example, ‘You see robbers lurking in some bushes, about to waylay a lone rider. It is spring, judging by the flowers and leaves. The rider comes closer and you recognize yourself!’ The character is thus forewarned of an ambush.

There is a stillness in the air. The passage winds on another 18m and then seems to end abruptly, but shadows dancing across the glistening rocks make it clear that the tunnel does not end here but snakes sharply to the left. Turning the corner, you find your way blocked by a wall of flame. From beyond it you hear the roar of a great beast and a human voice speaking in an unknown tongue.

GM: Hengist’s advice was correct—anyone of the True Faith, as well as pagans who live an essentially virtuous and honourable life, can walk through the flames unharmed. Characters such as demonologists, darkness elementalists, or others who have performed wantonly evil acts, will take 4d6 damage on walking through the flames—but if their intention is to aid Talionis, the damage taken is the minimum possible (ie, 4 points). They may attempt to leap the flames to avoid the damage (roll reflexes or less on 5d6, or be damaged anyway).

You step from the fire into a huge cavern. The dragon’s golden egg is on the far side, cloaked by protective flame. Caedmon and Talionis are eighteen metres away, squaring off for their final battle. Neither has noticed you. Talionis rears up, spreading her great wings to the cavern walls. Caedmon’s flesh is coated with a bizarre ashen powder, as though he had already been burned by the dragon, but coruscating tongues of eldritch white flame lick around him too, unlike any dragon-fire.

Raising his hand, he shouts a spell just as Talionis unleashes her fiery breath. White lightning arcs over red-gold flames. Talionis shudders as the wizard’s Deathlight bolt sears her; but it seems that Caedmon must be defeated as for several seconds he is engulfed in the dragon’s awesome inferno.

However, the flame dies and the wizard stands barely harmed; safe in his coating of Amianthus Dust. He smiles at the damage his bolt has done, and raises his staff. Then, as though some sixth sense has warned him, he turns and flashes a cobalt glare at you... 

GM: The party’s arrival means some quick rethinking for Caedmon. His bolt wounded the dragon severely, so he should be able to finish her off with the power in his Ring of Red Ruin. But he must manoeuvre so as to catch the party with his bolts as well; or else try to slay Talionis quickly and reach the egg before the party can stop him.

He has not long before his Amianthus Dust and Ring of the Burning Halo subside, and he’ll need 1 combat round with the Dust still working, to get through the egg’s protective flame. He is out of dragon dust, but has his Rings and his 1st- and 2nd-level spells. Remember that Talionis is protecting her egg. She realises that the party want to help her, but that will not prevent her from breathing on Caedmon if they are in the firing line.

If the party and Talionis defeat Caedmon, she will invite them to spend the solstice celebration with her. Her fledgeling hatches at midnight and takes an immediate liking to his soul-brother Osric. (Dragons in this world spend eighteen years in the egg listening to the voices of their ancestors before hatching. The young dragon, Protervus, is almost adult, therefore.) Talionis herself keeps calling Osric by his father’s name—it seems to her such a short time since she saw her old friend!

You may decide to let PCs choose an item from her treaure hoard. Talionis will remember them in the future, and may be able to provide boons or ancient wisdom, becoming a powerful if reclusive patron and even instigator of future adventures.

Okay, that's my sign-off for the holidays. Whether you adhere to the True Faith, the Old Gods or bow to no supernatural forces of any kind, enjoy the undoubted magic of the intercalary days and I'll see you on the other side. Yo ho ho.

A Ballad of Times Past - part three

Second Part: Waylaid at the Inn
In the early evening of the first day, you reach the junction of two rivers. There are a few cottages, an inn, and three boats down by the river, which is not frozen over. Osric suggests stopping at the inn, and also enquiring there about hiring a boat.

The low-ceilinged inn is murky with smoke from the fire in the grate, but gloriously warm. One or two figures sit drinking at crude wooden benches. The innkeeper, Owain, greets you, observing that you are not the peasants or impoverished travellers he usually caters for. Osric does not introduce himself, but orders cups of mulled wine.

As the wine arrives, two of the other patrons leave. But another figure you hadn’t noticed sits alone in the shadows away from the fire. He is dressed in a rough garment like a monk’s habit, with the cowl pulled over his head. His face is not visible, but with a sudden tension you feel sure he is watching you. Abruptly, he straightens and raises his clenched right hand. You stare directly into his eyes; clear, sky blue, and alive with glittering malice. He begins the words of some invocation. A sparkling dust falls from his fingers...

GM: Anyone who says they’re diving for cover at this point automatically evades Caedmon’s Deathlight spell. Osric is quick-witted and will have done this. Other characters will need to roll as normal.

With a crack like thunder, an incandescent white bolt leaps from the wizard towards you. Utter confusion follows. After you pick yourselves up, the wizard has gone; the door bangs open in the wind.

GM: If the characters follow, they see Caedmon getting into one of the boats, a hooded figure (Erik Iceheart) already at the oars. The boat moves off upriver. The other two boats have been sabotaged. Any character with a bow has time to fire 4 arrows before they’re out of range. The first two will miss automatically as the archer adjusts for the wind. The remaining shots are at –4 to hit. If hit, Caedmon will retaliate by Enslaving one of the party who will then try to stop his friends from firing. 

 Inside, Owain is inspecting the damage. Several beams are charred and a few stones around the fireplace are cracked. Shrugging, he begins to set the scattered stools upright. You spot a very small leather pouch on the floor near where Caedmon was sitting. It is empty but for one or two grains of golden dust.

GM: Since he seems relatively unperturbed, Owain may be suspected of having known Caedmon’s intentions. But the innkeeper will maintain (truthfully) that Caedmon, a regular if infrequent visitor, has used his sorcery often enough for Owain not to be startled by it. If asked about the pouch, he will add that Caedmon always wears a number of such pouches at his belt, but on this visit he seemed to have only four. The pouch they have found contained the dragon dust used to cast the Deathlight.

Third Part: The Vough
The next day is even more bitterly cold. You trudge through sparse woodland under a bleak, grey sky. Snow threatens. You spy a splash of red ahead, gleaming against the snow. A wild rose. More are scattered along in a winding trail, though there is no sign of footprints. Examination reveals that the roses have been cut rather than plucked.

GM: It is up to the player-characters whether they investigate this. Osric will go along with the majority decision.

The trail of flowers leads to a stagnant pond in a small copse. The pond is iced over—black, with a powdery sprinkling of freshly fallen snow. It is eerily quiet. As you watch, a cold wind swirls the snow in patterns across the ice. Slowly the patterns coalesce and rise into the silver, spectral image of a beautiful woman. Her hair is long and black; her skin, like alabaster. The only colour is the rubies set in tarnished silver links about her pale throat. Her expression is infinitely sad.

GM: If anyone has collected a rose, she drifts towards them, holding out her hands, imploring. If anyone reaches out to her (perhaps to hand her a rose), she matches her magical attack against their magical defence; if she is successful, they are drawn onto the ice, which has a 15% chance of breaking per person on it. If no one reaches out, she pauses at the edge of the pond for a few moments, then starts to fade. Suddenly (automatic surprise), the ice shatters and a rotted crone, clad in decaying rags, mud and tangled weeds, leaps from the black waters. Her dread shriek chills the blood; match her magical attack against each character’s magical defence, with success meaning that the character stands stock-still, paralysed with terror, for 2d4 combat rounds.

This foul undead being can create Illusion (Dragon Warriors, p. 82) at will. Her chilling touch works in exactly the same manner as a wraith’s (Bestiary, p. 86). She takes no damage from the first hit on her struck by each opponent, but takes double damage when hit by anyone who bears a holy relic of any kind. If slain, she rapidly decomposes into muddy slime.

If she is slain, any roses collected by the party or left lying in the snow will have vanished.

Fourth Part: In the Heart of the Forest
At nightfall, having gathered fuel, you sit around your fire devouring stew. A lone peasant comes into sight gathering wood. He greets you and asks to share the fire for a while. He is fairly young, below-average height, and wears dark green garments of coarse wool.

GM: If questioned, he says he will tell a tale of past and present, a tale of a dragon. Any who listen (Osric and any NPCs will) will fall asleep. The next thing they know will be when they awaken beside the burnt-out fire under a cold afternoon sky. Any player who says their character is turning his attention to anything else as well as, or instead of, listening to the tale will notice the others dozing off. If he asks, he should be told that he feels drowsy himself but can jerk himself back to wakefulness to see a premature smile of triumph on the face of the young ‘peasant’(actually a faerie creature). A single shout will rouse those asleep, but the faerie will have vanished completely, without a trace.

If the party succumb to sleep, they will lose six hours, waking early the next afternoon. This must be made up by pushing on quickly and perhaps even marching on after nightfall. Characters will fight at –1 attack and defence, and be down 1-3 Heath Points, through fatigue after such exertion, until they get a full night’s sleep.

Final instalment in three days. The artwork of the vough is by Jon Hodgson and if it makes you shiver, so it should. And by the way, if you're looking for Dragon Warriors books to run this adventure and you don't hold with piracy, you can buy the legitimate rulebooks from Serpent King Games here and help ensure there are more releases to come. Thanks!

A Ballad of Times Past - part two

Background
The forty-two-year-old King Athelred rules Beorsca from Hreod Castle. The first of his line, Athelred deposed the previous king when barely twenty-one. He is a capable and fairly popular ruler, still strong despite his years. Under him, priests of the True Faith have gradually prevailed against the Old Gods, whose worship is now reduced to a very few. 

Note: This scenario should be read to the players virtually as written. All the text that appears in red is intended to be read out loud. Information not to be read to the players is and marked ‘GM’.

First Part: In the Great Hall
It is the second night of the midwinter feast. In the Great Hall of the castle, roaring fires and tankards of mulled ale soon drive away all thoughts of the bleak, snow-covered lands outside. The king and his retainers, seated at tables forming a large U around the Hall, dine, drink and watch the entertainers who have flocked to the feast. There are jugglers, actors, acrobats, wrestlers, story-tellers musicians and animal trainers. Eventually, when the ale-dazed warriors are content to sit back and listen to a ballad, Skuli, one of a minstrel troupe from across the seas, steps forward and sings this poem:

"It was a time of hardship,
and everywhere the anger of the old worm
was seen in burnt barns and barren fields.
Then two close companions, worthy hall-heroes,
came hard against the walls of the welkin,
scaling high peaks to put an end to fear.
One, golden-haired with eyes of grey,
his comrade, with blue eyes burning;
they advanced to face their foe.
Of blood but three drops sufficed to win that battle,
and parley and word-play were the only sounds
while steel remained sheathed and shields unlimbered.
Soon the heroes' labours won peace,
and when the dragon's pool ran clear
it was a time for the giving of gifts.
The golden one savoured but a sip from
that spring – 
waters where he glimpsed and grasped his destiny.
His friend favoured a future drawn in dust."

During Skuli’s ballad, Athelred’s usual gusto and ebullience slip away. By the end, he is listening intently, sombre-faced and sober. There is silence. The bemused Skuli makes way for some tumblers while Athelred rises shakily and leaves the hall on the shoulder of his eldest son, Osric. The best and most stalwart of the king’s warriors (including any PC knights and barbarians) also rise and file out.

GM: Outside the king’s chamber, the warriors are met by Queen Gudrun and the royal advisor, an old monk named Hengist. (Hengist is an accomplished sage with expertise in history, languages, legends and theology and some knowledge of astrology and dweomercraft.) Gudrun tells the warriors, ‘Your liege is troubled and has retired to his chambers. If the king needs you I will send for you.’ Hengist, realising that something of great import is in the offing, sets about gathering men with skills to complement those of the king’s warriors. A messenger is sent to the nearby abbey. He returns with any PC mystics; if none, then one NPC Mystic.

Some hours after midnight, there is a commotion as Athelred comes striding from his chamber. Half-slumbering men-at-arms rouse: Gudrun throws a fur cloak across his shoulders as he marches out into the snow pursued by Osric, Hengist and some men-at-arms (perhaps including some player characters). Athelred, stone-faced and intent, strides toward the minstrel encampment oblivious to the biting cold and Hengist’s protests. Some of the minstrels rise to their feet, bewildered and a little alarmed at the visitation.

Athelred steps up to the crackling fire and grimly confronts Skuli—the slender balladeer in his rough clothes; the old king towering above him in fine furs. ‘The ballad that you sang,’ growls the king softly, ‘Whence came it?’

‘Sire, almost a month since, I had the fever. Before it broke, I dreamt the words as though they were whispered to me in some hot, dark, secret place.’

Athelred strokes his beard. ‘And did you sing it all or was there more?’ Skuli hesitates. Suddenly the king grasps him with huge hands, hauling him up so their eyes are level. ‘Speak, damn you! Or by the sacred heavens...’

‘Father!’ Osric leaps to restrain the king. ‘You make this good man sore afraid with such words.’

Athelred’s sudden rage leaves him and he sets the balladeer down with gruff apologies. Skuli nods. ‘There was more, sire, that I did not deem fit to sing on such a joyous festival.’ Seeing the determination in the king’s eyes, Skuli takes up his lyre and sings: 

"The passage of years sits heavy on men's shoulders,
but counts for little in the dragon's unblinking eye.
In such a time, the tide of treachery can rise.
Blue eyes now glint with greed; hatred dwells in the heart.
He who had been a hero, a sinister sorcerer now,
seeks to steal and shatter the dragon's shell.
With the blood-oath broken, grief shall fly across the land,
and he who put on the mantle of the monarch,
that one shall mourn his golden son."

The words are a hammer-blow to Athelred. He stands dazed; staring into the fire. At last, he raises his head, saying to his men:

‘Many years ago, before I was king, Beorsca was troubled by a dragon who dwelt in the northern mountains and came down to steal away cattle. Many were the heroes who sallied into the old worm’s lair nevermore to see the light of day. Two young warriors came at last, hoping to win fame and fortune. The warrior with eyes like the cloudless sky was Caedmon. I was the other.

‘We entered the caverns to put an end to the dragon or die in the attempt. But when we met her, she spoke to us in an old tongue which Caedmon knew, and so we parleyed with her. A magic pool had become stagnant; a pool sacred to her. We unblocked the channel into the pool by swimming within—something the dragon was too large to accomplish. After many hours, for there was much rubble below the water, the pool flowed fresh again. The dragon agreed not only to honour our earlier bargain that she nevermore troubled Beorsca, but also to add gifts of our choosing. With the water flowing again, the pool had a magical hue; I requested that I might drink of it and received a single sip which showed me dreams of things to come. This knowledge stood me in good stead when I wrested the kingdom from corrupt old Pendris. My friend, Caedmon, who had some knowledge of wizardry even then, saw a golden dust in the lair, fragments of an unhatched dragon’s egg shattered by a warrior years before. He desired this for its sorcerous properties, and the dragon gave him half-a-hundred pinches.

‘Caedmon and I stayed a week with the dragon and sealed a bond in blood. The dragon called herself Talionis. She said that as long as we were true to that bond, we were as siblings. Now, somehow, whether by design or accident, she has sent this message to me through this balladeer. Hengist! How read you these signs?’

‘Clearly, sire,’ replies the sage, ‘the “golden son” is Lord Osric, your firstborn whose eighteenth birthday falls on winter solstice in three days time. The ballad warns that his life is imperilled, just as Caedmon threatens the offspring of the dragon Talionis—who is, as you have told us, sire, your sibling by an oath of mingled blood.’

The king is thoughtful. ‘Although he was my friend, Caedmon was a secret and dark-souled man who never turned to the new gods. Though I have never seen him since, I have heard that he dwells in a tower across the bleak Wadwo Downs. Osric! Gather my best men. Take them to the lair of Talionis’ and protect her and her unhatched offspring from Caedmon. Make all haste, for the wizard must be already on his way! It is not only because of my oath to Talionis that I charge you thus, but because I fear that somehow our destinies are interwoven, hers and mine. Any harm which befalls her fledgling may bring down doom upon your own head, my son.’

GM: As the others return to the castle, Hengist and Osric remain in the minstrel camp enquiring after any brave men with the skills that minstrels have. (Any remaining PCs enlist at this point.)

After a few hours’ sleep, the party takes a light meal and prepares to depart. Because there are few horses at the castle, the time of year, and the terrain which lies ahead, the journey will be on foot. Characters may have any armour up to mail armour (AF4) and any standard weapons and shields. Hengist gives to Osric two items he has cherished for many years: a sealed blue bottle containing a Potion of Strength, and a tiny clay pot containing six applications of Healing Potion in the form of a salve. (Osric is unlikely to use them himself, preferring to bestow them on any characters he considers particularly needful or worthy.)

Hengist also tells of something he has read in one of his books: ‘Those who are true of heart need fear no harm from the dragon’s inferno....’ The book was penned by Ulrich, a monk, by whose advice Hengist sets great store. Finally, he hands the party a rough map which he helped the king to prepare; but Athelred warns that years have passed since he took this route, and the map is uncertain in places.

The next instalment is on December 16. Don't read it if you're going to be playing in this adventure.

A Ballad of Times Past - part one

Among the beautifully produced and re-edited Dragon Warriors releases from Magnum Opus Press a few years back, you may not have noticed In From the Cold, an anthology of White Dwarf scenarios by me, Oliver Johnson and Mike Polling. The book is currently out-of-print (really, that can still happen even in 2012 – I was amazed too) but hopefully it’s only popped out into the snow to relieve itself and will soon be stomping back over to the fireside and ordering ales all round, courtesy of Serpent King Games, who inherited the DW publishing licence from the éminence grise of British gaming, James Wallis. In the meantime, somebody styling himself the Dark Cavalier has become the self-appointed “publisher” and is offering it to anybody who cares to risk a download from his site. (Cheers, Cav; hope I get the chance to nick your Blu-ray player and laptop some time.)

Still, while not necessarily subscribing to the cause espoused by the brethren of the coast, I can see that, at this time of year, yes, content does want to be free. And in that spirit – and incidentally as a roundhead, not a cavalier – in the run-up to Yule I’m serializing “A Ballad of Times Past”, a seasonal standalone scenario in a world with very little magic. Today we’ve got the background and cast of principal NPCs, then the adventure itself in three instalments over the next nine days, giving you plenty of time to arrange a solstitial RPG session.

The adventure is set in Beorsca, a small kingdom in a land very much like Dark Ages Scandinavia. The practitioners of magic are even scarcer in this world than in Legend: all sorcerer, elementalist, warlock and demonologist spells above 2nd level require, as the material component, a pinch of dragon dust made from the powdered shell of an unhatched dragon’s egg (in hatching, the fledgling drains the magic from the shell). As obtaining dust would involve getting past a protective mother dragon, magic is very rare. One whole eggshell would provide one hundred pinches of dust.

Players should be told that spellcasters are almost unknown, but not why. Characters should be generated specifically for this adventure, and are 5th rank. They can be knights or barbarians (retainers of King Athelred involved from the start). There is also room for one mystic and/or one assassin (from the local abbey and minstrel troupe respectively, who join in as indicated in the text). Mystic spells do not require dragon dust, but in this world there are no mystic spells above 3rd level.

Needless to say, if you're going to be playing in this adventure you should stop reading right now and come back after Christmas!

THE CAST

Osric, the heir to the throne of Beorsca, is not quite 18 years old. A tall and handsome youth, he is probably the sort of warrior his father would have liked to be, for although Athelred has remained doggedly true to the new religion, he never has the effortlessly pure heart of his son. Osric’s long golden hair and grey eyes make him much like a younger version of his father, though he has not the king’s full beard or battle scars.

In his youth, Caedmon was a close friend of Athelred. When they befriended the dragon some 20 years ago, Caedmon was given fifty pinches of dragon dust. He now chafes at the fact that his former friend went on to win a kingdom while he lives in his tower in bitter and lonely seclusion. This resentment eventually drove him both mad and evil. He wants enough dragon dust to have a chance of taking over the kingdom, but failing that he will settle for enraging the dragon into causing widespread destruction.

Caedmon has not borne his 42 years as well as Athelred, He is frail and bent. His hair is sparse, and his complexion is unhealthily sallow. Only his eyes reveal the hidden energies within, for they are a clear and most startling sky-blue.

Erik is a slightly built man in his early thirties. He is of medium height with a handsome face and short, golden brown hair. A travelling mercenary, he came to Beorsca six years ago and fell in with Caedmon. He intends to help the wizard get the dragon dust (hopefully with minimum risk to himself ) and eliminate him once they have won the kingdom from Athelred.

Erik is utterly cold-blooded, and quite willing to dispatch anyone in the way of his plans, hence his nickname.

Erik’s sword, Ymir’s Fang, is a +2 two-handed sword. The sword has been passed down in Erik’s family for generations, but it cannot be possessed by an outsider. If Erik is slain and Ymir’s Fang examined, it will be found to be made of murky ice! It will then melt to a puddle of dirty water within minutes.

The dragon is 10 metres long with coppery-red scales along her body. She is only interested in guarding the egg she laid 18 years ago, which is now about to hatch. She can speak, is fully intelligent, if a little slow on the uptake, and can breathe flame.

Headcases (5)

The first evidence I can find of my predilection for severed-head monsters was way back in 1984 when I wrote the first Dragon Warriors book. That was the death's-head, pictured here by definitive DW artist Jon Hodgson. The description runs:

These vile supernatural creatures have the appearance of a human head with a long horn sprouting from the forehead and black bat-like wings behind the ears. They flap swiftly about their opponents, presenting a very difficult target (hence the high DEFENCE) and attacking with stabs of their sharp horn.

However, during the hours of daylight, the wings and horn of a death's-head become invisible and intangible, rendering it unable to fly. The monster gets around this problem by acquiring a host body. It devours the head of a victim and binds itself magically to the severed neck, using its sorcery to animate the body as a zombie. The death's-head then uses the host body to move around by day, passing itself off as human. It will always be on the lookout for a new host, however, as the decomposition of the body becomes obvious after a few days. A death's-head's disguise is thus 90% perfect on the first day after taking a new host, then 80% on the next day, and so on.

If attacked before sunset, the death's-head is bound to its stolen body and is thus less dangerous. It will use its host body to fight, using any weapon to hand, but the host body will have only the fighting skill of a normal zombie instead of the death's-head's own abilities given below. The fight is resolved just as though it were a combat with a normal zombie, except that any successful blow struck against the monster has a 10% chance of hitting the head and inflicting a wound on the death's-head itself. Otherwise the blow strikes the zombie body and reduces its Health Points.

The moment the sun sinks below the horizon, the death's-head regains its wings and horn and takes to the air. It will then scour the forests and lonely hill roads seeking a new host. It has a special spell, Spellbind, to help it overcome a foe without damaging his/her body. This spell is usable once per night, and cast with a MAGICAL ATTACK of 13. It has a range of 10m and, if successful, will cause the victim to stand in place while the death's-head kills him. Although a Hold Off the Dead spell will keep the stolen body of a death's-head at bay, it will not affect the death's-head itself as these creatures are not undead.

ATTACK 16    with horn (d10, 4 points)
DEFENCE 18
Armour Factor 3
MAGICAL DEFENCE 7
EVASION 7 
Movement: 
zombie host – 6m 
flying  –  30m
Health Points 1d6 + 2
Rank-equivalent: 6th

I'm not sure that I've ever used death's-heads in a game, though the Dragon Warriors scenario "The Honey Trap", written many years later, features a village of eerie critters obviously inspired by the penanggalan or the nukekubi. The reasoning there was probably that the players would expect some kind of vampiric nastiness, given that the adventure was set in Emphidor, but I obviously didn't want it to be too obvious. Come to think of it, I should have thrown in a harmless albino peasant just to incite the PCs into doing something they'd be ashamed of later. The differences from the usual South-east Asian flying heads (the sleepwalking, the taste for honey, bouncing like balloons) would be so that the knowledgeable Orientalists among the players (such as Paul Mason, Tim Harford or Jamie) couldn't accuse me of anatopism.

A-hunting we will go

Back around the start of the year, we ran the news that the Dragon Warriors licence has been picked up by Serpent King Games. If you're a Legend fan, you've no doubt been waiting impatiently for more DW books and, although it all seemed to have gone quiet for a while, I can assure you that the SKG team have been smelting up a smokin' hoard of real Nibelung gold, metaphorically speaking, in the form of an all-new and frankly rather sensational DW Players Book.

The Players Book isn't quite ready for release, but SKG this week offered a little taste in the form of the new Hunter character class, which you can download from their site. He (or she) is a little bit Hooded Man, a little bit Nasir, a little bit Strider and a dash of Legolas too:

All cultures of Legend have Hunters of one sort another. Whether authorized by law, or working as poachers, Hunters stalk the wilderness for sustenance. The wild places of the world are their homes, whether forest, mountain, desert, tundra or any other climate. The Hunter excels at not only surviving in such inhospitable terrain, but in using the terrain itself as a weapon. Most Hunters are content to eke out a living for themselves, their family, or their community. Other Hunters find themselves in the employ of local lords, keeping their domains safe from poachers and assassins. Still others become thrall to the lure of adventure, using their skills for personal gain with a group of roaming vagabonds. Hunters may be found throughout the lands of Legend, even at the highest levels of society. While many nobles are trained as Knights, others excel in the skills of the hunt.

Hunters get tracking and special bow techniques, as well as stealth, traps, sneak attacks, and mastery of terrain. And at higher levels they can whip up a bunch of arrows that Hawkeye would envy. They'll make for interesting PCs and the write-up shows how SKG are fleshing out the reality of Legend with a whole range of new professions and skills that will all be there in the Players Book. Not too long now, hopefully.

Green snow falling

Russ Nicholson needs no introduction to gamebook and RPG enthusiasts, I'm sure. This was an illustration he did for Dragon Warriors to accompany the following scene:

The crew scatter in all directions as the strange projectile descends. For a moment you think it is going to miss the deck, but then it veers in mid-air and falls with a slushy hiss. It looks like a huge ball of green snow, maybe, or else a very dense cloud of glowing vapour. You take a few steps forward, perplexed. The captain has ordered pails of water brought, thinking that the object was a lump of flaming pitch. But it gives off no heat or flames, just a billowing column of pale-green vapour.

The column of vapour rises higher, thickening. Dark outlines become visible inside the swirling cloud. Three cloaked figures. A sudden gust of wind stirs the cloud and disperses it. As the tattered wisps drift away, three black-armoured warriors are revealed. They are swathed in cloaks of black and vermillion and stand in a circle, their hands resting on the pommels of their unsheathed swords. The tallest has long black hair with a single streak of silver. You draw your own sword as you see how his eyes blaze with malevolence...

Russ has been a major influence and source of inspiration on all our books, but especially on Fabled Lands. He's not an artist who passively waits to be told what to draw; the ideas come thick and fast and all we have to do is jot them down. The walking cities of the Uttakin, for instance, and the way those mechanical legs fold up to become the buttresses of colossal palaces - that was all from the fertile Nicholson brain. And a good decade before Mortal Engines, I might add!

Another note of interest: this scene featured Ghulfang the warlock, who along with his ensorcelled blade Thanophon was an early character played by Steve Foster, who later created the memorable Tobias of Vantery, who will be familiar to everyone who's played the Blood Sword gamebooks.

Kings of legend sleep under the forest

Another trailer from Serpent King Games to get you in the mood for the new wave of Dragon Warriors material coming soon.

For anyone not familiar with DW, this description by gaming éminence grise James Wallis says it better than I ever could:

Dragon Warriors is set in the Lands of Legend, a world that resembles parts of our world as they were around the thirteenth century, specifically Europe at the end of the Crusades. The world works the way that people in medieval Europe believed it did: there’s a feudal order, might makes right, and barons squabble and vie for power to stymie or oust the king, who is a weak fool.

But on top of that magic is real; the power of the Church is real; the devil is real and may meet you on the road at midnight; superstition and folklore are real; fairies and goblins are real and may sour your milk, lame your horse or steal your child if you don’t keep them happy; there are giants and dragons deep in the mountains; and the great kings of legend sleep under the forests and will return if their domains are threatened.

The world of Dragon Warriors is familiar. You have been there many times in the stories of King Arthur, the tales of Robin Hood and Richard the Lionheart, the classic works of fantasy fiction, and the histories of the medieval world. But at the same time it is a place filled with threats and the unknown. And the further you stray from home the stranger the places you will encounter: the desolate wastelands of Krarth, home to the Rathurbosk, a city built entirely on a bridge over the Gouge; the ruins of the city of Spyte, once ruled by (and perhaps destroyed by) the magi-lords, whose descendents still control Krarth today; the dangerous jungles of Mungoda filled with the remains of dead civilisations and populated by the bizarre Volucreth bird-men; the New Selentine Empire, trying to recapture the glories and power of the previous millennium; the Nomad Khanates; the Ta’ashim lands; the great city of Ferromaine where money is king and anything can be bought if the price is right; the Principalities of the Crusade; and much more.

Roll up, roll up

A teaser today from Serpent King Games, who have inherited the Dragon Warriors license from Magnum Opus Press to allow MOP supremo James Wallis to focus on his upcoming Facebook game. I don't think I'm allowed to tell you anything about the latter, but everyone in the gaming world knows that a new project by James is sure to make a big splash.

Serpent King have all the old DW books and are hard at work on new titles, and as they are James's own hand-picked DW team you can count on those being top-quality stuff. So fullscreen the trailer and get yourself in the mood for some gritty Brit fantasy action.

Serpents and mongooses

If you're interested in Dragon Warriors, you may have noticed that the former printer of the books, Mongoose, have been putting their stock up for auction on eBay, one copy of each title at a time, at a starting price of 99p. Far be it from me to keep eager fans from a bargain, but it is important to realize that buying the books that way not only deprives the creators of the game (me and Oliver) of our royalties, it also takes revenue from Fabled Lands LLP and, much more importantly, from Serpent King Games, who are the guys trying to make a go of the series. So if you want to see more DW books in future, enlightened self-interest suggests you probably should buy direct from the authorized publishers.

Where goblins screech across the moors

That post last month about the realities of medieval warfare (nasty, brutish and not nearly short enough) set me to thinking about Jon Hodgson's excellent piece about the grim, fey world of Dragon Warriors. Jon's article was referenced a while back among some comments on this blog but could easily have been missed, so I'm linking to it here on the Serpent King Games site. And if that strikes a chord, take a look at SKG chief Ian Sturrock's companion piece here.

Fabled Lands players sometimes ask me what makes Legend different from Harkuna. Read what Jon and Ian have to say and you'll know. And you'll also see why I believe that Dragon Warriors has found its dream team, a group of guys with the passion, talent and sensibility to run with the torch, and can now look forward to its brightest (or should that be darkest?) days of all.

Like one that on a lonesome road...

Jon Hodgson, one of the prime movers behind exciting new venture Serpent King Games, pointed me in the direction of this spine-tingling trailer he put together to promote the handing over of the Dragon Warriors torch from Magnum Opus Press. (Link to YouTube here if your browser isn't displaying it properly above.)

Tantalizingly, Jon describes this as "the first of the Serpent King videos". If a sixty-second trailer can deliver such an authentic shudder, I'd like to know when they're going to start work on the Legend movie.

Longtime DW fans may get a sense of déjà vu here. In the original DW Book Two, The Way of Wizardry, there was a picture of a fellow riding under a tree in whose branches sat a goblin. The man in the saddle looked glum, as if he saw that goblin the same time every morning; the goblin looked contrite as a kitten that couldn't figure out a way down. Jon has finally rendered that scene with all the minatory darkness it should have had. As I've said before, for me he is the definitive visualizer of Legend. And stone me if he didn't write the soundtrack too! Dragon Warriors is in safe hands with these guys.

The Serpent King arises

At last we can lift the lid on what's been cooking over at newly formed Serpent King Games, who inherited the Dragon Warriors licence from Magnum Opus Press and are now starting to reveal some of the marvellous plans they've been weaving throughout the dark winter months.

In terms of pedigree, this Serpent King is no itty-bitty grass snake but the kind of adamant-scaled, century-battened, monster wyrm that could send Thor hurtling through a couple of skyscrapers. These guys are an RPG supergroup; they're the Traveling Wilburys of fantasy gaming. SKG is headed up by industry veterans Gareth Hanrahan (lead designer on the new edition of Traveler), Jon Hodgson (art director at Cubicle 7 ), and Ian Sturrock (former Mongoose writer responsible for the Conan and Slaine RPGs) and their line-up of writers includes most of the folk who are responsible for Dragon Warriors' renaissance over the last few years.

All of these guys were on James Wallis's team at Magnum Opus, and he says of them: "I’ve worked with everybody at Serpent King over the last ten years, and they are fiercely talented. Dragon Warriors and the lands of Legend are in the hands of amazing people who are going to take them in some very exciting directions."

Serpent King Games will be keeping all of the current Dragon Warriors books in print and have a juicy slate of new releases lined up. First is the eagerly awaited DW Players' Book, which you'll be able to get your hands on this summer. Following that, there'll be at least two new books this year. I don't have any details on those but expect new scenarios, new professions, new creatures, new items and new magic. With SKG at the helm, 2011 is set to be the best year ever for Dragon Warriors fans.