It's been five years since the end of the Last War, which tore apart the continent of Khorvaire for over a century. The kingdom of Galifar was divided, four of the five original nations now existed after the Mourning wiped Cyre from the face of Eberron. Other nations have sprung up from the ashes of the Last War to take their place in the new political theater taking shape.
In the region of Q'barra two small kingdoms of human refugees are attempting to co-exist with the Dragonborn natives while holding themselves together in the face of the larger, much older nations. On the edge of Khorvair's eastern frontier the region has proven to be ripe with the dragonshards needed to power the various magical conveniences available to the people of the five nations. Q'barra attracts prospectors and adventurers alike looking to make a fortune and perhaps get away from memories of the Last War and its horrors. But far more ancient terrors await within the jungles of Q'barra, and woe to those who disturb their prisons...
I've wanted to do an Eberron campaign ever since I picked up the Eberron Players Guide many months ago, and now I'm finally getting that chance. This setting sets itself apart from other Fantasy realms in ways while not necessarily new, is still refreshing nevertheless.
Herin will be a chronicle of my gaming group's adventures and my thoughts on my DMing progress. Hopefully it might even be entertaining for those in the know and not.
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It wasn't much more than a frontier town, only boasting the barest of necessities. A barracks for the city guards, made up of the the human and half-orc soldiers of House Tharaskh. Separate quarters for the miners who day in and out used the Dragonmark Heir's Mark of Finding to guide their way towards precious shards from the World Below. And of course, a Tavern, for all of the above.
ReplyDeleteOutside the Tavern's porch steps, a Dragonborn, not out of place in this part of the world, sat with a kind of dejected determination. He was dressed in a strange set of fatigues, a mix of green and browns meshing around his robes. In his talons, he held out a hat, asking any passerby to spare "a few coins for a veteran."
Cloudy but sharp draconic eyes noticed another caravan coming in. Good, more people to give up coin that could be traded for ale. Drinking to forget, that's all he wanted to do.
The caravan held people of all sorts, but for sure, the most interesting looking was the giant of a humanoid. Most of him was covered in white wolf fur, patched and torn in several places. His head was without hair and covered in markings clearly natural. And of course there was his height, an impressive seven foot eight inches. He walked next to an uncovered wagon, full of fighters of all races, and one, seemingly out of place High Elf, who didn't appear to have any armaments. A gray hood covered her head, a sad attempt to stop the sun's rays. As the rest of the crowd dispersed, the Dragonborn noticed the leather outfit she wore, of various shades of brown. He pondered absently how she avoided making noise with all the belts and zippers that hung off her waist and arms. As she passed him, he held the hat out to her.
"I protected you during the war!"
She looked sideways at him, gold eyes staring bemusedly under white bangs.
"I highly doubt that," she replied, disappearing into the doorway. The Goliath followed behind her. Again, the Dragonborn tried his luck. Hearing his plaintive requests, the Goliath answered:
"I'll give you two and a half gold if you will just be quiet."
Nodding, the Dragonborn took the coin. After the Goliath had too disappeared, he bit down on the coins to make sure they were real.
Inside, the Eladrin, dropping her hood revealing a head of white hair, shorn at the nape of aneck save a long braid that peaked out from the middle and ran down to her waist, turned to the Goliath.
"Are you following me, sir?" she asked ina teasing voice. The giant shrugged.
"Where else would one go to get a drink?" he inquired. She looked around, distasteful.
"Judging from the looks of this place, the best drink you're going to get will be piss poor."
"Cousin! You hurt me!" a smooth voice called out, its owner a golden haired elf, well built, wearing the vestments of an inn keeper.
"Come, cousin, we have much to talk about! Croak! Get a drink for our Goliath friend here! The best!"
A dark kobold skittered across the room, holding a tankard almost bigger than it was. It lifted the mug as high as it could, passing it into the giant's hand.
Upstairs, Seren, the Inn/Tavern Keeper closed the door firmly behind him and the white-haired Eladrin.
ReplyDelete"Good, you got my note."
She didn't say anything, staring past him, disinterestedly. He shifted uncomfortably.
"Did you have a good trip?" he tried again. She shrugged.
"Nothing important happened."
"Well, how did-"
"Look," she cut him off, "I didn't come up here to chat. You said you had more information for me."
His jaw clenched.
"Yes, well then...let's get down to business. You're familiar with the Gatekeeper Orcs?"
She nodded. Of course, the druidic orcs, secretive protectors of unknown power, treasure and wealth, guardians of ancient ruins. They were fiercely protective and loathed any interference from prying eyes.
"Ther has been some sightings lately, a great increase. As you can imagine, in this part of the world, they aren't something we see often. Your job is to investigate them, find out why they're here. You can understand the need for discretion in this case."
"No, really?" she didn't bother checking the sarcasm. "I'm sure they send Infiltrators out all the time, just expecting them to wear their titles on their capes."
She saw his anger rising, but as always business came first.
"Your usual fee of course. 200 up front, the rest when you finish the job."
She tilted her head towards the door.
"So can I go spend this on your booze now?"
He smiled.
"On the house."
(I swear, I will finish this but it's like quarter after 3am. So...TO BE CONTINUED!)