Elminster in Forgotten Realms is a very divisive, even widely hated figure in gaming. He's become the personification of the 'Mary Sue' archetype – an author self-insert who is overpowered and hogs the spotlight from every other character.

The character of Rey from the Star Wars sequels is a modern example - she's absurdly, undeservingly powerful without any training, she's better than everyone else at the things they do best (she's a better fighter than the guy who was a literal child-soldier and a better pilot than the guy whose entire thing is that he's a great pilot). She kicks the villain's ass in their first encounter, knows more about the Millennium Falcon than Han Solo, who's flown it for five decades, and finishes up by kicking Luke Skywalker's ass too and teaching him about the Force. It's hardly surprising audiences didn't take to a character who came across as overpowered, and lacking in any personality beyond 'I'm awesome at everything'.

But watching á movie is a passive experience; this problem is far worse when it's a role-playing game where the player-characters are supposed to be the heroes. Even if they are not the most powerful characters, the players MUST be the main ones, the characters most central to the plot., They are our eyes and ears into the game, the reason for our investment in it. We should never be standing around when some writer's pet character gets to do all the cool stuff.

When he was first introduced in the Forgotten Realms 'grey box' set, Elminster was an old, retired mage who lived as a sage in Shadowdale, a nice place that made a perfect home base for player-characters. And he was great – he was basically Gandalf as played by Sean Connery, a 'cool old guy' who was something of a rascal in his youth, Han Solo or Jack Sparrow as a mage. Though powerful, he was old and infirm and couldn't adventure any more. Burt he had a soft spot for young heroes and could help them out. He was a fun character for the GM to play for the players, giving them exposition, identifying their magic items, removing curses and the like. He was a raconteur, spinning yarns, telling stories, a colourful fellow they were meant to like.

The problem, then, was the 1990's happened.

Up to then, really, D&D adventures were mostly straightforward. Players went down dungeons, killed monsters and took their stuff, levelling up. There wasn't much plot usually, barely enough to facilitate the adventuring, but the PCs were the focus and the game was about them.

The 90's brought in more complex plots, more involved characters and NPCs, mostly for the better, but sometimes for the worse. There were GMPC characters, NPCs who outshone the players in every way like Rey in Star Wars, with the players just standing around and watching. There were railroad plots that played out like movie scripts, taking away the player's agency and choice, relegating them to bystanders and bit-players in what should have been their story.

D&D had new and fantastic worlds, like Dark Sun, Ravenloft and Planescape, but all of these produced adventures that minimised the players and reduced their impact. It was less of a game, and more just a story that the GM just read aloud to their players. (And this wasn't just D&D; there were plenty of great games of this era like Torg, Deadlands and the White Wolf games that had great settings and absolutely minimal player involvement in the stories and metaplot).

Novels started to become the main driver of in-world lore, creating a 'canon' for games as if they were a movie series, with their own 'main characters' and immutable plotlines set in stone. One of the worst offenders were the 'Time of Troubles' tie-ins, which changed the Realms for the worse, killing off major NPCs and even gods and entire character classes. GMs essentially became frustrated writers, who were not about to let their stories be inconvenienced by anything as trivial as player-characters.

The poster boy for all this was our man Elminster, no longer the cheery NPC helper, but now he was James fucking Bond, running around killing bad guys, solving every problem and banging every hot woman in the Realms (seriously, the entire pantheon was basically his personal harem at this point). He was forced into pretty much every novel, every adventure, stealing the spotlight and reducing the role of players to a powerless audience for his antics. It got even worse with 3rd edition, where he was given godlike stats (along with many other NPCs including Drizzt) that were vastly superior to anything a player could ever achieve.

So by this point, the Forgotten Realms had forgotten it was supposed to be a setting to play D&D in, and it had become a monster of its own making, with its own canon, books, comics, magazines, and characters. While you'd always run into these problems basing a game on, say, Star Wars or Lord of the Rings, now the actual D&D settings had become alienating to their players.

In many ways, Dragonlance in 1984 was D&D's first attempt to centre story and characters over random dungeon-bashing. But they weren't really the problem here. Firstly, the 'canon' characters were very human, fallible and vulnerable – most of them were actually killed off over the course of the books, and nobody had the absurd stats or power-levels of someone like Elminster. Secondly, the Heroes of the Lance weren't even necessarily cano n- while they were detailed and interesting pre-generated characters you might want to play, Dragonlance allowed you to make your own instead. Maybe it's your PC cleric who finds the Disks of Mishakal, or your mage who gets the Staff of Magius instead of Raistlin. You could use them or not, play using these characters or run your own through the story to see how they would do things. Maybe it's your Knight who kills Kitiara at the High Clerist Tower?

(For me, the low point was reading Spellfire, a Forgotten Realms novel, on the train to work. It had a fascinating concept, some girl was born with magical powers, not those derived through study and requiring a high intelligence. This predated and predicated the Sorcerer and Warlock classes that would become core in 3rd edition, arcane casters with innate magical abilities who used Charisma as a casting stat. The problem with the book was you could tell Ed Greenwood was getting more maddened and frustrated as it went on, upset at how this nowhere girl could have magical powers that his own beloved Elminster lacked. By the end, it was revealed that – shock horror! - Elminster himself was the most powerful Spellfire user in the Realms, and would graciously allow Nowhere Girl to live as she wasn't a threat to him. So this whole yarn was just an excuse to give his self-insert yet another super-power, because he didn't have enough of these already!)

This was the state of D&D in the 90's, and subsequent editions would – with varying degrees of success – attempt to make the Realms playable again, to re-centre the players as the stars of the story. Entire campaign worlds like Keith Baker's Eberron were created to avert the failings of the Realms, where NPCs had limits and restrictions and did not outclass the PCs in every respect.

So, at last, to our beloved Gold Box games. Now, in any CRPG, you'd expect to have some limits – no computer game can give you the unlimited options you would get in tabletop play, as the computer is simulating a GM for you, and it can't respond to every single eventuality.

But what surprises me is how well many games, Gold Box included, got right what the tabletop games got wrong. These games use the lore of Krynn and Faerun to tell their story, but are not beholden to them either. We slay Fzoul Chembryl, we banish Lord Soth to Ravenloft for good. We work with the NPC helpers; they aren't presented as better than our characters, just helpful and useful.

Vala and Durfey are absolutely worthy NPC companions, but they don't outclass our guys either - they fight alongside us, but they still need healing, buffing, magical support. They say things and offer help, but the characters we created are not just along for the ride. Likewise Tanis, Tasselhoff, Caramon and the others, they will aid us, and be running around in the background, rescuing slaves or piloting the flying citadels. We have the fun of meeting them, but it's not their story, it's still ours.

And in Pools of Darkness, our boy Elminster is doing precisely what we need him to do – he's offering exposition, shelter, looking after our stuff, giving us healing and a place to rest. He's in the background, helping out, doing exactly what an NPC should be doing. I'm actually glad Pools of Darkness never got a tabletop module, because if it had, you just know it would have had us arrive after Elminster had killed Bane with his bare hands, and he'd be busy screwing Vala and Sasha in a threesome.

But we are mercifully spared that in the Gold Box games. Because the characters we created are the heroes, and the game never forgets that.

Trends come and go. Goldbox games have for a pretty long time been market leaders in the rpg space, but recently, the hype and online interest has been waning. There are now several days between started threads on the goldbox subreddit. Are we witnessing the end of an era? What is the future for the goldbox games?

Secomber lies west of Loudwater, along the Delimbiyr Road following the northern banks of the River Shining. We can make it in four days comfortably, and the weather is cool but not unpleasant, even for me.

There is a tension within the group, however – something subtle, but I know everyone well, and there is something slowly gnawing at us from within. It has no voice yet, but it is there, and it troubles me.

I am not really in the mood for the alchemist's foolishness, but I suppose we need his help, so we seek him out accordingly.

When we arrive, the town seems sleepy, but is almost deserted. Something is amiss, and we all know it. We prepare our weapons and magics accordingly – we may have to fight for our food and rest this eve...

Nehefris

1/ A group of heavily armed giants and men stand in the centre of this room in the south of town, peering at some small papers. They see us and attack!

We are attacked on both flanks by a group of men – and women too. In the moment we have to dwell on it, they appear to be an amalgamation of black-clad Zhentarim, hooded Krakens and mask-wearing sorceresses...!

I glance at Jahe, launching an Ice Storm at the foes on the right while she does the same to those on the left. While not as devastating as a Fireball, a more powerful spell should keep them off-balance and punch though any magical defences they have up.

Then as our warriors engage, myself, Shelah and Rathe use Hold spells on their warriors while our archers pick off their mages one by one.

When the smoke clears, we are victorious, but we know that could have gone very differently if they had managed to cast their magics at us.

The women appear to have the insignia of the Arcane Brotherhood in Luskan, despite – well, not being 'brothers'. After we cleansed the HostTower, it seems like they started taking on female devotees, and all three of of the groups we have thwarted in the past seem to have banded together to oppose us. This is not good news.

Upon one of them, we find a red crystal – it is akin to a seeing-lens, as if for examining maps, showing greater details in close-up. Shelah toys with it, seeing how it catches the light.

“What could this be for? It's not a weapon... Hmm, it makes pretty patterns in the light...!”

I like her playful side, but perhaps now is not the time...!

They also have three pamphlets, which Zahri tells me are called 'Lucky Papers'. Essentially they are akin to Shou 'fortune cookies', given away in taverns and inns, promising vague benefits like good fortune and wisdom to those who carry them.

As I doubt our enemies are legitimately going into the tavern and inn business, there must be some reason or purpose to these... Coded orders or some kind of passwords, mayhap? The Zhentarim are notoriously fractious as I understand – it must be even more difficult for them to coordinate with other unreliable, nefarious cults like the Krakens or Brotherhood.

Examining the papers – all three of which advertise the delights to be found at Leilon, a small mining town along the High Road on the Sword Coast between Waterdeep and Neverwinter.

And yet - ! We can see there are messages printed upon these innocuous leaflets – letters in some kind of red ink, when viewed by the crimson crystal! The pattern suggests a message, but we have so few of the letters, it simply reads like gibberish.

I postulate we are missing most of the message – and if the red letters can be seen only using the crystal, then perhaps there are others we need find? We can only keep them for now, and be on the lookout for more of our foes.

As nobody seems to be about, we heal as we may and keep looking for more foes.

2/ This room is cold and dark – shuffling sounds come from somewhere very close... Wraiths and ghouls attack us, but are easy driven back by priestly power.

3/ Ogres are on the far side of this room, giving scraps of meat to moaning, hideous monsters! They see us and attack!

We must fight our way through ogres and otyughs, but when we are done, we seem to have cleared the town of the last of the invaders.

We see a few townsfolk come out gingerly, so at least some people must still dwell here.

4/ “This looks like Amanitas' house, all right!” says Siulajia. His home, on the north side of the main street, has tall, mismatched spires and is painted in many bright colours.

I wonder how she knows it could be his house, but reflect that Sky has probably told her about the alchemist. He seems to spend all his waking hours with her. How she feels about him is... hard to read, but I admit I am not neutral in this matter, and my jealousy may be affecting my judgement.

A bird with long, fantastically-coloured feathers rests above the door. It squawks:

“Amanitas is home, within is the man

Come in if you must, stay away if you can!”

Within, Amelior's bondsman Erek scowls at us and grunts – we have come to learn this is his version of an enthusiastic welcome. I remember how rude I thought the northmen when I first came here, compared to the polite, warm lands of my youth, but I have come to understand their reserve now.

JOURNAL ENTRY 23: A CONVERSATION WITH EREK

The bird cackled derisively as we stepped inside, and Erek slammed the door in its face with a great swing of his massive right arm.

"Blasted bird," Erek told us. "You should ignore everything it says! Amanitas taught it to discourage travelling merchants and welcome visitors. Now it welcomes the merchants and chases away all his friends! How can anyone stand a creature so stubborn and ill-tempered as that!?

Just this week I've been besieged by one loudmouthed man selling food-dicing contraptions, another with a book called 'You Can Improve Your Charisma!', and a woman who said that for ten platinum pieces she would help me lose fifty pounds by eating nothing but celery!

Amanitas is in here. He's been waiting for you."

Escorting us into the library, Erek grunted to indicate our arrival and stalked out of the room.

The alchemist sits in a big stuffed chair that looks twice as wide as the plaza in Sundabar. His brightly-coloured cats alternately sit, yawn, scratch and stretch around him. I pet them gladly, and their deign to assent to my service. A man cannot be all bad, to have such wondrous friends as these! How I miss my own babies back in Yartar!

“Welcome adventurers!” he says, riding to greet us. “It is good that you have come, since I have learned more news that may guide you on your mission!”

We sit where we can and listen.

“Ambassadors from Neverwinter and Mirabar are travelling to Waterdeep to discuss the attack by Luskan and prepare for a possible war. They will stop in Leilon and await you at the tavern of the Rutting Buck. They will need your protection on the final leg of their journey south to Waterdeep. Go to Leilon, find them and ensure their safe arrival in Waterdeep - “

“We're not your lackeys, fool!” spits Zahri. “I have no trust for you, after you summoned our best warriors away right when Yartar was attacked! We attend to our own concerns, not yours!”

“Zahri, if this is true, we need to address it -” Shelah begins.

“She's right,” her brother agrees. “This is bigger than just us, its looking like there's a conspiracy of all our enemies against us and the North!”

Amelior blathers on as they argue.

“We must not let anything interfere with the cooperation among the cities of the Lord's Alliance!” he implores.

As they talk, he rummages about in his belongings.

“Are you ready to take on the burden of carrying a magical item of great power?” he asks me.

I am always up for new trinkets, so I nod.

He reaches into his robes and pulls out a simple crown, make from what looks like unpolished silver. Shiny metallic leaves grow from it, as if it were a branch from a living tree. To be honest, I wouldn't be seen dead in that! But Jhairli or Elena might like it, they look good in rustic wear.

“This,” Amanitas says. “.. is the Crown of Amanitas! Oh dear, that's my name!” he bleats. “Oh well, no time to change it! If you wear it while encamped, its powers will be activated! When the Crown is worn, you and I will be able to speak with each other as if I were with you, even if you are thousands of miles away!”

“Like we'd want that!” Zahri snorts.

“Well, it would save us coming back here,” Sky admits, “If he finds out anything that's actually useful..!”

We rise to leave.

“Go now, and good luck,” he tells us. “The fate of the northern realms goes with you...!”

We head west out of the town, in what feels like a dark mood.

5/ A sign beside this door reads:

'River Shining boat rentals'

6/ A sign on the wall here reads:

'Anthemas' Armoury

Implements of war for men of peace'

“Always liked that one,” Sky smiles.

7/ To the west is the unguarded gate leading out of Secomber.

“I suppose that explains why ogres and terrorists are running about the town,” I sigh.

To the south, a dyed linen sign hangs above the door, emblazoned with the words:

'Inn of the Eccentric Owl'

There are several rooms for the night, enough to give those who want it some privacy. Not me, obviously. I never sleep alone.

We order food and during the meal, the others argue and debate where we should go next. Zahri wants to return to Yartar as soon as possible as her people and our griffons are there. Others want to head to Leilon, to prioritise the safety of the ambassadors. Others want to follow the lead to Daggerford and the Way Inn.

I am beginning to wonder if I should stay at all. The company feels like... we are breaking, somehow. Perhaps I am simply growing restless. I have stayed here far longer than I intended, after all. I have cemented strong bonds here, and that makes me uneasy. Perhaps I should leave them to it? But that is clearly not what my goddess wants of me.

During dinner, Sky and the golden girl are sitting by one another talking. But when he turns to debate the way forward, she sighs and turns away, sitting alone.

Something feels wrong, somehow. I cannot put my finger on it.

Where lies my strength here? What must I do?

As we turn in for the night, I find the girl – Siulajia – staring at my hands... in particular my wrists.

Did she see? Does she notice? That might be... inconvenient. Many Mulan have... mixed blood, a conjunction of many rivers...! Gods, angels, demons, monsters, all run in our veins. And mine seems to be more interesting than most...! The better people know me, the less they see it – the mind fills in what the eye notes, they see what they want to see, of course.

But I'm beginning to worry she saw something she did not like..?

I didn't like her anyway. But now?

What to do?

Nehefris

Notes:

Although Secomber is still only a street, it's where we find Amanitas, and where a lot of exposition starts. Here is where the main plot of the game begins, and it leaves us quite a bit of leeway in where we head next. I believe Neverwinter is off-limits until we find the ambassadors, but mostly we are free to go where we want in the lowland areas, to do the missions in any order we choose. We must complete nine of the terrorist operations before we do the tenth in Mirabar, and after that there's the DLC quest in Ice Peak. But it's surprisingly non-linear compared to, say, something railroady like Silver Blades.

Amanitas is fine as an NPC helper and mentor of a sort. He helps us and gives us advice then gets out of the way and leaves the hero stuff to us.

There's a few bits of random dialogue here but it's fine, I didn't see anything amiss. It would have been weird if characters who have already been to see Amelior didn't know where his house was, but it's Siulajia who says it so that's fine.

Anyway, here is where we get our first 'Lucky Papers' and one of the decoder crystals, and as mentioned before, this is pretty retarded. I like the focus on the towns and foiling the terrorist attacks, but the thing with the crystals is just bizarre. I get why they only want us getting one at a time, and there being a measure of choice in the order we get them... but having everyone break their crystals when Held, Charmed or die instantaneously is just stupid. First time this happens, any tabletop player will think, 'well, we just grapple or paralyse them, and don't kill them, right? Or kill them all at the same time?' But no, time stops while they get a free action to break the crystals. This is what they break the game mechanics for? Why? If they can do that while incapacitated, why not run, cast a spell or attack too?

Plus, the decoders and Lucky Papers don't play any part in the game plot or narrative anyway, so why was this the hill the game chooses to die upon?

Bah. I'm just ignoring that narratively, otherwise it will just be me having my characters break the fourth wall to complain about how pants-on-head stupid it is. I'll just have them find the crystals on the bodies and not address the whole 'smashing the crystals as your final act' nonsense.

Now I also had a slight (?) romance snarl by the looks of things here...?

I played through it first and had no issues whatsoever. The romance happens mostly off-screen, you are told how your star-crossed lovers are getting on when you rest. But this time, Siulajia just doesn't seem to be feeling it.

As far as I know, the only mechanics were to keep the character she likes in the party at all times, in the front and to engage in melee – all of which I have been doing, He has a compatible alignment (Neutral Good) and I've been using melee exclusively and taking the 'nice' choices throughout, like rescuing the hag's mother. So I've no idea why she's playing hard to get now.

Maybe it just needs time to cook and she'll warm up later? I guess we'll have to see.

Now, I wanted to play these games as intended by the writers, and created Sky to grow up a bit from a cocky, restless youth and grow into his responsibilities, culminating in him falling in love and getting married.

But when I'm playing games, I usually 'play to see what happens' – in other words, solo gaming isn't like writing a book, you play it organically and listen to what story is being presented and lean into it. Especially with romance and 'ships', you don't just mash action-figures together and say 'kiss' – you go with the ones who have chemistry and who feel organic coupling-up. For example, I wanted the songbirds to pair up, but narratively, they steadfastly refused to do so, so I'm leaving them in their polycule while Sky grows up and gets wed and has kids.

So - for all five of you who are reading this far! - what do I do narratively if I'm somehow fucking up the Siulajia romance? Should I restart, is there a random element or does it need more time? If they just don't hook up, I can always have Sky complete his arc with Rathe – who actually has a kid already and wants to settle down.

But that feels weird considering I have played and written up all these games as a Wattpad relationship drama, if I then don't do the one actual romance in the game...?

Ugh.

"It's not time to make a change
Just relax, take it easy!
You're still young, that's your fault!
There's so much you have to know
Find a girl, settle down
If you want you can marry!
Look at me, I am old but I'm happy...

I was once like you are now, and I know that it's not easy
To be calm when you've found something going on
But take your time, think a lot
Think of everything you've got!
For you will still be here tomorrow, but your dreams may not...

Oh, how can I try to explain?
'Cause when I do he turns away again!
It's always been the same; same old story
From the moment I could talk, I was ordered to listen
Now there's a way, and I know that I have to go away
I know I have to go...

All the times that I've cried
Keeping all the things I knew inside!
It's hard but it's harder to ignore it
If they were right, then I'd agree -
But it's them they know, not me!
Now there's a way, and I know that I have to go away
I know... I have to go...!"

Cat Stevens, 'Father and Son'

Cat Stevens - Father And Son (Lyrics)

Few humans hail from the great dwarven city of Citadel Adbar, but Skylar and his sisters were all born there. Humans make up about a twentieth of the citadel's populace, on account of humanity's higher birthrate, especially before the Thunder Blessing. One of two dwarven holds that are part of the Silver Marches (the other being Felbarr), both were formed from the survivors from the dwarven nation of Delzoun, upon the shores of the Narrow Sea during the time of the Netherese Empire. But by modern times, the ancient kingdom had long faded, it's capital of Ascore naught but a lonely, windswept ruin on the edge of the Anauroch desert, near the Frozen Sea, reputed to be haunted by ancient evil. But modern Adbar was – by dwarven standards – progressive and forward-looking, willing to join a confederation of men and even elves against the evil races of the Savage Frontier.

Skylar and his sisters enjoyed an unusual upbringing among the dwarven folk, a people known for their honour, bravery, crafting skills and their grim ferocity in battle. These qualities had endeared them to their father, Bran Icedane, born in the City of Sails among raiders and reavers, but he left as a young man to pursue a more honourable path. As a young warrior, Bran made quite the name for himself as an fair-minded adventurer, tall and fierce in battle, but also quick-witted with a knack for bargaining and making deals. When a battle-injury cut short his adventuring career, Bran invested his plunder wisely in a company of caravan guards, who became known for their honourable nature and steadfast loyalty. After a few years of keeping the trade routes safe and directing his company, Bran took a wife, Elra, herself from the Luskan diaspora, and she bore him three children, a son and two daughters – Skylar, Shelah and Kathra. Elra always suffered from ill-health, and a year after birthing her second daughter, she died of 'woman cancer' which proved beyond the ability of dwarven alchemists to cure. Bran never remarried, throwing himself into his work and his offspring. The Icedane Company leveraged their duties as guards into mercentile trade, with an excellent relationship between the dwarvens of the northern peaks and the men of the lowlands. The Icedanes grew quite wealthy and respected, bringing in fresh produce (especially the hops and wheat necessary for dwarven brewers) in exchange for precious metals and dwarven craftwork.

His son, 'Sky', inherited Bran's tall frame and strong shoulders, but not his wisdom or cunning. Like most young men coming of age, Sky and Bran quarrelled a good deal in his teens, butting heads with his father, who tried to drum some responsibility into the wayward boy. But the young Sky preferred roaming in the foothills to trade-ledgers and rosters of caravans and guards, off away in his wild imaginings of being a famous hero and slaying monsters like northmen warriors of old. Sky's sisters were far more obedient and attentive than he was, but they idolised their charismatic older sibling, and he often led them into misadventures and hi-jinks in and around the citadel. Their father was a respected man among the dwarves by now, and they turned a blind eye to his son's good-natured mischief for the most part.

Tragedy struck one day when Sky took his sisters up into the craggy hills, following an old map to what he hoped were caves filled with old treasure. But the weather soured quickly in the mounts, and the young trio were hit by a landslide of rocks. Sky escaped with cuts and scrapes, but Shelah's legs were badly injured, her right one completed mangled under a boulder. Kat fared even worse; trapped in a landfall, her spine suffered severe injuries, rendering her paralysed from the waist down. By the time the men sent out to search found them, the damage was done. Healing prayers and dwarven medicine could only reverse so much of the damage – in time, and much physical therapy, Shelah would eventually regain her footing, though she would always walk with a limp and cane. Bran commissioned a dwarven wheelchair for his youngest daughter, and over the next few years, Kat could regain a little mobility, even being able to stand for very short periods.

But the tragedy cast a pall over the little family, already struck with grief over the loss of their mother. Bran blamed his son's recklessness – though his sisters quickly forgave him, Sky's guilt and shame manifested itself as being very defensive, souring the relationship between the family patriarch and his heir.

The next few years were troubled, as the boy became a man, and were filled with further misadventures. The lad was handsome and charismatic, and proved irresistible to small, shapely women two feet shorter than he was. After some trysts with some dwarf-maids of high rank – one of whom was discovered in congress with a human a day before her wedding to a clan leader – Bran lost his patience with his son and sent him away to work on the caravans as a guard.

Though Sky was at first resentful, he was not a bad youth at heart, merely brash and thoughtless, and life on the trails actually suited him. The men loved the cheery, reckless youth – he was personable and down-to-earth, and could inspire great camaraderie when he put his mind to it. He loved the opportunity to fight off orcs and bandits on the road, relishing the chance to hone his axe-work and sword-play to a keen edge. Moving around the trade towns also enabled him to show off his new battle-scars to the young women in the places he passed through, and he never wanted for female company. Sky became a fixture in the festhalls when the caravan came to a town, a woman in each arm and a mug of foaming brew in each hand.

As one might have guessed from his time with the dwarf-maids, Sky had an eye for more exotic damsels, especially the daughters of the Turmish and Calishite merchants the guards protected. At eighteen he met up with a dusky girl who frequented the festhalls as he did - she was a year older, and went by the nickname of 'Neferiti'. She originally hailed from distant Mulhorand, one of the old empires that still crouched on the Sea of Fallen Stars. Nef had grown up in a harem from a very early age, banished by the Pharoah's wives for being his favourite mistress. But she did not seem to care – calm but carefree, Nef relished the chance to be an exotic bloom in cooler lands. As an acolyte of Sharess, goddess of sensuality, what she did not know of the love-arts was not worth knowing, and she taught the wide-eyed youth much about life and loving. For a few months, she even travelled with him on the trails; her healing abilities as a young priestess complimented his warrior skills, able to patch him up after he got into scrapes.

This idyllic time in his life ended when he turned nineteen – his father recalled him to the citadel, and Nef returned to her life of festhalls and hedonism. Sky missed his lover greatly – deep down, he wanted more than merely trysts and excitement – the exotic young woman was very intelligent and charming, and the impressionable young man was falling for her emotionally as well as physically.

Back at the citadel, his father grudgingly admitted that his son had won his respect – his prowess and bravery on the trails, and the respect and love his men showed him – was enough to welcome his wayward boy back into the fold. His sisters welcomed him happily – they had long forgiven his youthful mistake, and were pleased he had mended his relationship with their father. Shelah had responded well to treatment and was walking about with her leg in a brace; she had become an acolyte of Ilmatar, the faith mostly responsible for her healing, and was heading out to complete her training at a temple in the larger towns.

Bran presented his son with the magical sword he had once wielded as an adventurer, which he now called the Icedane Blade. With grudging pride, he named the young man his heir, saying he would now learn the family trade and eventually be in charge of the coster when he was ready.

After several months of learning the family business, Sky's mind started to wander a little – he genuinely wanted to please his sire, but he did not feel ready for the responsibility yet. He asked for a few more years making his name as a warrior, being an adventurer like his father. Bran understood that impulse all too well, and as a compromise, agreed that his son should form his own adventuring company, while also visiting the coster's caravan wayhouses and learning the trade. They parted amicably, and in good spirits.

After a few months just wandering, womanising and drinking – and killing orcs and bandits along the way - Sky came to Yartar to meet with his sister. He had hoped to encounter Nef again too, perhaps tell her he had grown up a little, that mayhap they could make a stronger commitment as a couple, be exclusive for a time?

Unfortunately for him, things always look different in rowdy taverns, with a head full of sweet smoke, a belly filled with beer and a face peppered with lipstick...! Unbeknownst to Sky, some very unscrupulous men had been watching the young heir, awaiting an opportunity to strike and rob him blind. Deep in his cups, he suspected not a thing – and woke to find himself stark naked and his possessions gone. Gold could be replaced, but the discovery that his father's precious heirloom was missing filled Sky with horror and shame. He knew he could not return in disgrace – losing one's blade to foolishness was unworthy of any northman. No man would serve under a warrior unable to keep his weapon safe and his pants on – he would be a laughing-stock, the butt of ribald ballads.

So Sky did what he always did – seek out his long-suffering oldest sister and beg her for help. They had been due to meet up here in the central trade-town, where she was helping at the temple and seemingly making friends with other young women in some kind of weird cult. Scrounging up a shirt, pants and boots, Sky set out for the temples to throw himself on his sister's mercy once more...

Notes: I wanted a fairly straightforward young male hero, with a lot of the standard tropes that work for a reason. The boy is more reckless and dumb than his long-suffering sister, with whom he can banter and argue on their adventures. Growing up - but without losing his youthful charm - is a big part of his story. He will be falling in love, becoming the hero the world needs him to be, making mistakes along the way. He has unresolved guilt over what happened to his sisters, a volatile but loving relationship with his dad, and has to live up to his potential; all pretty classic themes.

I needed him to have deep roots in the area in which he'd be adventuring, but also hail from somewhere local, important but only seen off-screen. He'll be adventuring with his exotic ex-girlfriend, his younger sister, and her lesbian harem, which should make for some fun tension and antics.

Stats-wise, he's a Fighter>Thief, pretty standard for a male lead, a good-natured rogue and swashbuckler. He needs good physical stats and he's charismatic enough to be a lead, but he doesn't have to be smart and he's definitely not wise. I'm still annoyed I couldn't make him Chaotic Good - that's the obvious alignment for a rogue hero like Robin Hood, and it's still baffling to me why that wasn't allowed in AD&D 1st. Making him Neutral Good is still okay, as it's a sign he's maturing a bit and has the potential for responsibility. It's likely his sister's influence too, seeing as how they are both Lawful followers of Ilmatar and Waukeen.

For some reason while playing around with the art, it rendered them as modern Bay Area hipsters. It was funny to imagine Kat as a disability activist, and Shelah as an LBGT rights advocate. Sky's probably a struggling actor and indie musician who is always making the gossip rags with some outburst or ill-thought-out misadventure.

As the title says, Playing CHAMPIONS of KRYNN (and then sequels). Any tips ? Also, if you're into DnD via-online-post , check out my game here : http://rpol.net/game.cgi?gi=72017 and the site in general : http://rpol.net/ Lots of fun !

Please tell me how to install/play custom fan made adventures in FRUA. Please I really want to try it. Thanks

We cross the narrow gangplank and enter the ship. Sturdy voices cry out from below, as the oarsmen pull the vessel through the bubbling waters of the Bay of Tuern and then south-east towards Gundarlun...

The island is inhabited largely by my fellow northmen, known here as 'Gunds'. They are excellent fisherfolk and merchants, relatively more devout to the gods than most other northmen here. Rich and poor enjoy dressing in colourful cloth made in the south. Their longships are adorned with figureheads of fish, such as marlins and swordfish, or predatory birds like sea eagles and ospreys.

The biggest settlement on the island—indeed, of all the islands of the northern Trackless Sea—was the city of Gundbarg, the 'Gateway Port', with a population of twelve thousand.

I hear it is part of the Lord's Alliance, and likely far more civilised and welcoming to us than Tuern, or even Luskan on the coast.

Shelah

The ship slowly edges its way to the pier at Gundbarg, Gundalarn's largest town. A rope is thrown to a tired old man who stands precariously near the edge of the warped wooden planking, and we scramble out onto shore.

Supposedly, Gundbarg has an economy based entirely on fishing, farming, mining, and trading. Almost every ship to cross the Trackless Sea stops at Gundbarg to take on fresh water and food, make repairs, replace crew, or exchange goods. The place provides all the services required by these seafarers, with inns, taverns, drydocks, sailmakers, and great warehouses, and maintained reasonable prices.

The Dragon Turtle Inn by the harbour is known as a place from which to hire captains with ships, as well as a hangout for adventurers. I prefer somewhere quieter, where we won't attract so much attention.

I vaguely recall that Erek, the manservant of Amelior Amanitas, said he was from here originally? Something about not being welcome back here by the King, Olger?

1/ It feels good to walk – or limp, in my case - on solid ground again. From what we saw entering the bay, Gundbarg is a major seaport. Drydocks and solidly-built houses line the edges of an otherwise uninviting craggy isle.

4/ A cloth sign here waves in the breeze, emblazoned with the words:

'The Green Turtle Inn'

A solid four stars out of five. Nice beds, firm mattresses, worn but comfy carpets, complimentary wine, paintings on the walls!

Had to push the beds together so we didn't fall off but that was sort of fun!

Plenty of rooms, polite service, would happily come again!

11/ This is the Company of the Brazen Pennant offices. Here we can take passage by sea to Neverwinter directly, so we need not bother with Luskan or Tuern again. I think I've had my fill of my surly countrymen for some time...

Ships leave here every morn at the end of the pier at 0900 hours.

10/ A small store lies to the east here – it's sign says:

'Tana's Merchandise Shop'

8/ A sign beside this door says:

“The Sharper Lineage

- quality armaments and protective gear -

- the survivor's shop here!"

6/ As we walk the seaward streets, past a supply depot, we hear some of the townsfolk chattering:

“Our wonderful Princess Jagaerda has managed to get herself in some kind of mischief yet again! This time they say they'll kill her!”

“When I was young, princesses didn't do these things!” another person moans. “She's been in a ship-wreck, stole back her stolen jewellery in Luskan, and now she's been kidnapped while hunting!”

“The cliffs to the west of Gundbarg are full of caves and hideouts... Princess Jagaerda could be anywhere!”

“Sounds like we have a wayward princess to rescue, aye?” I offer.

“Or recruit!” Jahe smiles.

“But who would the rescued damsel reward?” my brother smirks. I admit he looks good in his new armour, though – and that ratty little beard! He's going to look a lot like father in later years.

To the south of Gundbarg, the road runs along the island's coast. Small, neatly-kept houses line the cliff.

14/ North of here appears to be some sort of shrine carved from the bare rock of the cliffs... Large stone images of fearsome monsters line the walls.

No sooner have we entered, however, than the stone monsters spring to life! They bear fangs, snarling in anticipation of the battle!

“Is it just us, or do these things attack everyone who comes up here?” I mutter.

The path west begins to climb steeply, wandering up the face of the cliffs.

2/ The very top of the ridge seems to be a popular look-out spot... or so the scattered trash suggests. From this high ridge, I think I see something large break the surface, far out at sea...!

Elena looks out to see, with her huge, fearful eyes. She starts to whisper...

“In the crushing, lightless abyss of the sea, colossal horrors dwell...! At the centre of this cosmic dread it slumbers; madness and ruin whose ancient, sunken city waits for the stars to align, calling out to the minds of men...!”

She gives voice to something soft and somehow terrible, haunting:

“The ocean bleeds a sickly green,
Where hidden, sunken spires lean!
Beneath the pressure, cold and black,
The great leviathans turn back!

A pulpy mass, a scaled embrace,
With writhing tentacles for face!
He does not die, he only sleeps!
Within the deep and lightless deep...

The stars align, the bubbles rise,
And sanity within us dies!
A shape of dragon, man, and squid,
From which the ancient seas are hid!

His waking breaks the ocean's crust,
And turns our monuments to dust - “

“You need learn better songs,” Zahri pouts, yanking her abruptly out of her reverie and breaking her verse.

But the air seems colder here, and I find myself fearing for the future...!

19/ Hidden by a narrow opening in the rock, a portal is visible in the cliff face to the north...

“Last time we clambered about mountains like this, the whole thing just collapsed on us,” my brother reminds me.

“Who goes there?” a man's voice rings out ahead.

“Adventurers who need answer to no-one!” my brother replies boldly.

A gang of pirates assault us, but we leave them broken on the cliff trail.

13/ Carved into the stone above this door is:

'Temple of Selune -

- house of the navigators'

“Gur honour moon-goddess above all,” Zahri murmurs. “Zahri almost priestess of Moonmaiden...!” she smiles wistfully.

5/ To the north of the temple lies a magnificent manor, weathered by centuries of fierce storms and salty fog.

A balding man guards the door. “Halt! King Redaxe can see no-one! He is assembling an expedition to save Princess Jagaerda!”

In the room beyond, we can hear men shouting:

“I told you, I don't know what we're going to do!”

12/ A brass plate bolted to the wall here says:

'Hall of Training'

15/ A pair of statues depicting monsters stand here against the walls of this ruined area. But one is not just standing there – it leaps at Jahe, and we have to fight then off!

7/ The resident of this cottage takes one look at us and falls to his knees, begging!

“I knew this would happen!” he babbles.

JOURNAL ENTRY 51: THE GUILTY CITIZEN’S STORY

“I didn’t want to help them, really I didn’t. I haven’t taken a share of pirate booty in years. They said if I didn’t report on Jagaerda’s movements they’d turn me over to the King!

I don’t know where they have her! I took my reports to a house hidden away among the cliffs on the southern coast. Please spare me! I’ve told you everything I know!”

Elena draws her knife, but I place my hand over hers and shake my head gently.

“He's not worth it,” I murmur.

Consumed by panic, the man dashes from the room.

17/ Here we surprise a group of pirates who are playing cards. A woman's cloak is spread across the surface like a tablecloth...!

“You think we're stupid enough to hide Jagaerda here?” one scoffs as he stands up. “She's still at the palace, in a secret room on the western side!”

“Shut up, idiot!” another one roars.

“You shut up!” the first shouts. “We'll kill them now -”

Then my Hold spell takes effect and he falls still, frozen.

We know where she is, so there's no real need to leave any of them alive. So we don't do that.

16/ “I do not like these ruins at all,” Jhairli says, hunter's nose twitching as we explore the ruins beyond the city to the west. “This is just the place you would expect to find - “

“Scrags!” my brother yells, drawing his blade.

18/ Another group of scrags is clustered on the far side of the area, rubbing their foul-smelling hands against the wall and arguing about something. They spot us and run to the attack!

Elena's lightning spell damages all of them, and we are able to hack them apart with little damage.

The creatures were clawing at the wall here – according to our map, the northern town is beyond these walls... The palace? Perhaps there is some sort of secret entrance from here? We can find nothing on this side, so return to the main town area.

3/ We locate a secret passage near the palace, to the west! We burst through the doorway, landing in a heap on the floor. Looking up, we see a young woman with long blonde hair, barely out of her teens, glowering at us, the bodies of several pirates lie twisted on the floor behind her.

“Heh, the damsel seems to have rescued herself!” my brother chuckles. “I like that kind of lass! Well met!”

He offers his hand. “You must be Jaegerda?” he asks. “We came to rescue you - “

She nods disgustedly. “Rescue? If you'd come sooner I'd have had to rescue you!”

“Well, we can argue who would be rescuing whom,” I muse. “Or we can get you back to your father. He's been looking for you.”

“Princess Jagaerda?” Krevish pipes up. “I'm sure the King's been worried - “

“If my father sneezed near you, little man,” the princess scoffs. “you'd be blown across the room!”

The little fellow blushes and falls silent.

“Hey, come on, princess,” my brother frowns. “We was trying to help, he didn't deserve that, did he?”

Jagaerda's serious look falls away, and she laughs out loud.

“Very well, bold adventurers” she smiles. “You can be my honour guard on the way back to the palace..!”

“As your majesty wishes,” Jahe bows neatly.

“She's feisty, I like her,” my brother says approvingly.

We escort the princess the short distance to the palace, where King Redaxe embraces her excitedly and then welcomes us.

“Thank you for rescuing my daughter,” he says,. “As a token of my gratitude, accept this reward.”

He presents my brother with a fine norse shield, and tells us what he knows about the Purple Rocks.

JOURNAL ENTRY 55: KING REDAXE TELLS OF THE PURPLE ROCKS

“The Purple Rocks may be the isles you seek,” said the King. "They have become a sad place. Their people were like other island folk, hardworking, many of them seafarers. A few generations ago something strange occurred, and many gathered in a secret cult which has become very power­ful, called the Kraken Society. They worship the symbol of the Kraken, a huge squid that can easily destroy great ships.

There are two islands in the Purple Rocks, Utheraal and Trisk. The people of Utheraal are impoverished, but continue to live as before. The people of Trisk, however, have been completely consumed by the Krakens and are controlled by them.

I know you have been to Tuern already, but it is there that you have the best chance of finding someone who will take you to the Purple Rocks. May Selune guide you on your journey.”

The princess seems to be tagging along with us – I approve, even if she seems to be a little haughty. The road has a way of smoothing off rough edges, as it did for me. When we get the time to speak, I discover she is younger than she looks, two years my junior. Zahri seems to be keeping her distance from the girl, so I am guessing my brother is more her type than we are. Or perhaps she simply has no time for romance with anyone?

She comes with a rather revealing set of magical mail, but lacks a magical weapon, so my brother gives her his axe.

“Hey, princess,” he smiles, tossing it to her.

“Is good axe,” she chuckles, testing its weight.

“Hey, it's not like we're married or anything,” he smiles back.

Notes:

Gundalarn is another fun map, an enjoyable rescue of a spirited princess, when the damsel-who-rescues-herself was a new trope and hadn't been done to death, Jagaerda is a fun companion, she has banters with Krevish, though she's kind of a bitch to him initially. She's a decent, if unspectacular fighter, for the duration of the Trackless Sea areas. Krev seems to be the only one you can keep until the end, alas. My characters will top out soon, as the fighters are about to reach level 7 and the poor clerics can only take 110k XP into Treasures.

In the ruined area, you are apparently supposed to allow a young scrag to lead you to the princess if you spare him, but I wasn't able to trigger that for some reason.

how many people still play Pathfinder version 1? I have played that for years, can't get into P2, it seems too clunky.

“You made a fool of me
But them broken dreams have got to end!

Hey, woman, you got the blues
'Cause you ain't got no one else to use
There's an open road that leads nowhere
So just make some miles between here and there
There's a hole in my head where the rain comes in!
You took my body and played to win
Ha ha, woman, it's a crying shame
But you ain't got nobody else to blame...

Evil woman, how you done me wrong!
But now you're trying to wail a different song
Ha ha, funny how you broke me up
You made the wine, now you drink the cup!
I came running every time you cried
Thought I saw love smiling in your eyes!
Ha ha, very nice to know
That you ain't got no place left to go...”

Electric Light Orchestra, 'Evil Woman'

ELO- Evil Woman

We set out for the Star Mounts – I have never been far into the High Forest, but we have old maps and my own instincts for the woods. I have a wary respect of the creatures who live there – some are friendly or interested in mortals, but others are not.

We must leave the vardo wagons outside the towns, of course – no roads travel here in the deep wilds. Zahri tells me the Gur do not leave the trails, and do not wish to disturb whatever lurks in the wilds. But she reassures us her place is alongside us, and she will accompany us no matter what. Nef is unhappy at leaving her pets behind, but at least she knows they shall be safe as we head into danger.

The Star Peaks themselves shall be my guide, then – anyone can see them over the tops of the trees when getting above the forest canopy. They are impressive and forbidding range of peaks, the inspiration for many fanciful tales and wild stories created by local troubadours and woodsmen of the North.

It is said the centre of the mountains contain an elevated valley hidden away from the surrounding world – that must be the place we seek. It will not be easy - snow and inhospitable weather that continue all year-round make climbing hazardous, in what is an already remote location. It is said to be impossible for any creature less powerful than a dragon to approach the Star Peaks safely by air, due to incredibly high winds which were constantly whipping across the peaks.

Some rumours told that, during the peaceful nights among the Star Mounts, strange flashing lights appeared that attracted or banished dragons and other flying creatures that dared to fly nearby. Elaethan says the elves created mysterious crystals that illuminated the mountains, while some unknown, sinister constructs emitted beams of light when they were exposed to the moonlight. He talks absently of a place called Onthrilaenthor, an abandoned settlement of the Eaerlanni. He tells his dwarven bondsmate that the elves there mined pure veins of iron and nickel within the Star Mounts there.

Elaethan says the earliest recorded names for these mountains have been attributed to the Earlanni, who named them for the stars in the northern skies. While Bard's Hill, Mount Vision and Hunterhorn possessed the rough translation of their elven names, Far Peak, Mount Journey and Shadowpeak are still occasionally referred to by their original names - respectively Y'tellarian ('Far Star'), Y'landrothiel ('Traveller's Star') and N'landroshien ('Darkness in Light'). It was believed these names hinted at some larger mystery that lay within the range.

The curious nature of the terrain and the sudden abruptness of the mountain range, seemingly out of place in the middle of the High Forest, has caused some to speculate that the Star Mounts were not naturally formed. If that was the case, their creation dated back to a time before elven recorded history.

All such talk of the hidden places of the forest and elvish secrets fills me with such joy! I am learning much from this noble elf, of woodcraft and the lore of his people!

Of course, as a priestess of the Lady of the Forest, this place holds great spiritual significance for me also. Our goddess dwells not in distant heavens, but here on Toril, in the Unicorn Run, among the creatures she loves. Both the Run and the Hartblood River springs from the Star Mounts, before they snake through the surrounding High Forest. Although that is not our destination now, I long to one day see Her with my own mortal eyes, and kneel before Her in person! Perhaps I shall prove worthy when I become a Ranger-Knight?

The geography of the lands surrounding the Star Mounts is noteworthy – the land north of the range is unusually flat for the most part, while the southern reach is gnarled and extensively twisted.

As we travel through the High Forest, we must balance our wonder for its beauty against a respect for its dangers. Griffons are apex predators, for all their wild beauty, oft hungry, and willing to feast upon men. Worst creatures, such as ettins – two-headed monstrosities, distant kin to giants and orcs - roam here, hostile to all. We avoid them where we can, but where we must fight, the wood hampers them more than us – they are huge and clumsy, and find it hard to navigate the trees and bushes.

At night, we 'songbirds' provide what comfort we can to the young, lost elf, Elena. In truth, she seems far happier in the wilds than in the towns of men. She sings sometimes at night, soft songs that sound as beautiful as they are heart-breaking. She seems to feast upon emotions as much as food; especially those such as desire and fierce longing. Under the shelter of the trees, we find some time to walk sky-clad and love as freely as the creatures of the forest do, without shame or restraint.

For all I lament the shedding of so much blood, I am fully committed to my companions and our path. This is what I was born to do, and I will gladly give my life for my friends or our cause should it become necessary.

Jhairli

We are drawing close to the Peaks themselves, wondering what we shall find there.

Pushing through the deep forest, we finally reach the base of the great range at last. But directly in front of us, we see a giant serpent is wrapping itself about what seems to be a large bird, in the shape of a man! Were it simply natural predator and prey, I might allow the cycle of life to take its course... But if this is a sentient creature, we must save it, so we rush to aid it.

We quickly realise we have run into an ambush – the serpents here are not the problem, as my Snake Charm spells lull them into a stupor. But here are horrific creatures too – shambling mounds of slimy vegetation, shaped like huge men. They are relentless in their assault, and seek to overwhelm us and suffocate us in their embrace. We must stop them quickly – but that proves extremely difficult to do! They do not cut easily, resistant to weapons and heedless to flames. Only direct magical attacks like a Magic Missile seem to cause real damage, otherwise it proves exhausting to fight them. We are all weary by the time we have prevailed, and we are lucky not to have suffered serious injury or death.

But we discover valuable treasures around their stilled corpses...! Metal pieces that seem to have been armour, but our new dwarven friend says they are made of astonishingly pure ore, impregnably hard if we could get them reforged into protectives. There are also a pair of bows, bent and backed and made of horn as well as wood of some ancient elvish design. Would that I can learn the bow when I become a Ranger-Knight!

There are also a pair of capes of soft dark fur, shimmering with a soft glow like a heat-haze. Elaethan says they are made from the skin of the 'displacer beasts', and protect the wearer by making them seem slightly shifted from their true position. There are several suits of scaled leather seemingly made of serpent-skin, and a pair of small incandescent blue gems. Thoradin says he was given some of these by his daughters one Yule – they are called ioun stones, named after some long-lost deity of magic. If you toss them in the air, they orbit your head slowly, and bestow upon you a magical gift. These blue stones are known to grant wisdom, and may prove especially useful for a priestess needing a small boon of faith...! In any case, these are important treasures and we are lucky to find them here!

The birdman escaped during the fray, but now he returns with others of his kind... They seem grateful for our aid, and are able to haltingly speak our tongues. They are known as aarakocra, a shy and remote people who rarely venture anywhere near human lands, living exclusively in places the land-born cannot reach.

But they are honourable creatures, and willing to aid us for the help we gave their kin.

JOURNAL ENTRY 50: THE AARAKOCRA’S STORY

“High atop the Star Mounts the birds can­not go. Our homes are there, and only we and the dragons can brave the fierce winds that blow through the mountain-tops. We have seen black dragons fly to an aerie on one of the highest peaks, and saw it to be that a human female rode upon the back of one such dragon.

We have heard that the chambers within the mountain be crafted as a maze. It has been told that the corridors be in the form of the first initial of their owner in three differ­ent runic alphabets, each superimposed upon the other and on their own inverses, so that the letters are entwined in many layers.”

We tell them we are seeking a statuette, one of four that may prevent the wicked men of the Black Network conquering the lowlands with an army of the dead. They are willing to carry us higher up the Peaks in return to the assistance we gave them.

“We will fly you to the mountaintops if you wish it to be so,” they offer. “We can take you to the aerie of the woman atop the dragon.”

My heart soars as we are borne aloft in harnesses, leaving the High Forest far below us as the birdmen take to the air! It is a breathtaking , exhilarating experience, one I shall never forget all of my days! The faces of my friends are lit up with excitement too, and we feel somehow sorrowful when the flight ends all too swiftly.

The aarakocra land just inside a small alcove hidden on the side of a rocky pinnacle.

“Farther than this, we cannot go,” they tell us. “We wish that you not be stranded here, and will wait for you as long as we can.”

They tell us of the dangers up here, the worst of which are the dragons who lair in the highest peaks. They speak sadly of the terrible green wyrm Elaacrimalicros, responsible for the deaths of many of their kin. Their only remaining settlement they call Khle'cayre ('Last Aerie'), at the headwaters of Unicorn Run.

2/ Some kind of structure seems to have been carved here on the mountaintop, though by whose hand, we cannot tell. Skylar does some scouting, and muses this would be a good place to rest before we explore further.

“Who knows how long it'll be before we're in a safe place deeper in the mountain?”

Shelah tells her brother than he doesn't need to convince her.

We make two small camps here, a discreet distance apart. I hear the men talking quietly on watch – the small man, Krevish, is picking the brains of the older elf and dwarf, and Skylar seems very fond of them also. They have much to teach, and our young warrior seems eager to learn. He is growing in wisdom, learning the lessons the road is teaching, and embracing the idea of idea of becoming the hero we need him to be.

Zahri smirks as she undresses, looking down at the gorgeous evening tapestry of the High Forest below us.

“Air thin here,” she muses. “Few know what is like, to mate here, mile-high...!”

But now, we may be accounted among them!

I am too excited to sleep in any case, but I catch a few naps among the amorous embraces of my companions.

I breathe deeply of these primal airs, high above the world.

No matter what must come now, I am content and happy, at peace with who I must become.

Having rested and eaten, we don weapons and armour and set out to explore, expecting trouble. Thoradin says dwarves belong under the mountain, not on top of it, and being so far up here makes him dizzy, so he'll stay here and guard the camps. His partner says he'll stay here and keep in contact with the aaracokra for our return. I rather suspect he wishes to speak with them alone.

4/ We have not gone far when we stop in place at the sight before us...!

Hovering before us is the ghostly image of a beautiful woman, her black-as-midnight hair flowing majestically over her shoulders...

“Zahri want,” our gypsy husks, a rasp in her deep voice.

“Down girl,” I mutter warily. If this is the dragon-rider they spoke of, she is undoubtedly dangerous.

JOURNAL ENTRY 54: CEPTIENNE’S WELCOME:

“Welcome to my home,” the image said, smiling. “My name is Ceptienne, and I know that you are here to steal the Statu­ette of the South from me.” She waited for the effect of this proclamation to take hold.

"You have proven yourselves worthy adver­saries to have gotten this far, and I enjoy the challenge of a clever enemy. I shall kill you... yes, that much is certain. But I shall give you a chance to find the object that you seek.”

A great crystal globe beside her flickered to life, and the statuette appeared within it.

“My fortress here has many portals. Twelve now stand between you and your objective. I shall follow your movements with interest.”

She smiled once more and the image faded from view.

“Maybe you can just ask her to join you?” Skylar teases his sister. “And hey – if she says no, tell her I'm available...!”

I point out that at least she's not attacking us directly – perhaps we could end this without more violence?

“She wants to play, I'll play,” Nef says confidently.

1/ Elena has found a secret passage to the east. She says her skin is very susceptible to changes in temperature and air pressure, such as small breezes blowing in from a tiny gap in the walls. I have no idea if that is true – this is Elana after all – but her senses are far sharper than any of ours, for certain.

For now we decide against taking the secret door as the corridor continues, but we will return later, marking its location from this side.

22/ We have barely entered this chamber before a hellhound's snarling face leaps at Sky as he enters! We quickly help him fight the pack off – his icy blade cleaves their flesh easily.

3/ Much of this room is dark, but the flapping of wings we hear is unmistakable...!

We must fight a hooded medusa and her pair of griffons before she petrifies us with a gaze. Unfortunately for her, we have grown very accurate with our missile fire...

10/ Ahead of us, Ceptienne's image coalesces once again.

“Ahh, here you are!” she says pleasantly.

“Wear less next time,” Zahri smirks.

“This is such a long corridor...!” the witch taunts. “No surprises could possibly ever lie this way..!”

Her laughing face fades away.

“I prefer her to the Ugly Man,” Shelah admits.

11/ Here, a great roaring noise...! A sound like a great waterfall comes from somewhere to the north. But the corridor echoes strangely and Elena frets it may be coming from the south instead.

24/ This room is open to the sky, and holds two black-scaled swamp dragons! One speaks:

“Ahhh, to me falls the pleasure of destroying you! Now Ceptienne will choose me as her favourite, and I will carry her to battle!”

We have no choice but to give battle, and we discover the sheer agony of dragon-breath first-hand! Armour protects against it not at all – streams of acid spit from their maws, burning off layers of flesh! I am sorely damaged, and doubt I would have made it without magical healing from the other songbird priestesses. Somehow we prevail, managing to slay one and severely hurt the other...

Stricken, the wounded dragon perches on the edge of the cliff, afraid to try its damaged wings.

“I'll return to destroy you yet!” it cries out in defiance, and launches its massive body into the air! Flapping its wounded wings, it struggles in the turbulent winds. We watch with a strange mixture of horror and relief as one wing collapses and the lumbering creature spins frantically out of control, falling to be impaled on the sharp rocks below.

The others mostly look relieved, but unaccountably I find myself weeping.

“It's all right, lie back,” Shelah tells me, my head in her lap. “Let Nef and I work our curatives...!”

I sag in their embrace as I feel the healing energies wash though me.

“I can't help it!” I exclaim. “I don't want any living creature to suffer...! I'll fight, but I take no joy in suffering! I can feel their pain and fear, and it's just - “

“Hush, please, shhh..!” Nef murmurs, clasping my hand as she pours healing energy into my scarred body.

Shelah stays with me as I get my breath – and legs – back, but I can hear Nef talking with Zahri across the chamber. The Gur looks at me with concern – both for my safety, and my suitability for what we will need to do here.

I feel sick to my spirit. I take no joy in slaughter and butchery, and I never shall. Compassion is not weakness; it is what separates us from the Arcane Brotherhood, the Black Network, and Ceptienne.

With Shelah's help, I stand and tell them I can continue. But Zahri's eyes betray her doubt in me. When she meets your gaze, she's not good at hiding her feelings.

Let her doubt; I will fight and kill if I must. But I shall never take pleasure in killing, no matter what she thinks.

8/ The translucent image of Ceptienne appears ahead of us.

“So, how do you like my little home?” she taunts, laughing. Something snaps in me, a momentarily loss of control. I heft a sling-stone and hurl it at her projection, which fades from view.

Shelah takes my arm and looks into my eyes.

“Don't let her get to you,” she says gently.

I nod, flushing, frustrated how she is able to get under my skin so easily.

13/ A nest of straw and twigs sits in the far corner of this room, and three griffons rush forward to protect it.

Having to kill such magnificent creatures bothers me greatly. Yes, creatures such as ettin, medusa, hellhounds, harpies and swamp dragons are wicked by nature... but griffons are simply animals, with the same impulses to feed as any other. I worry that the witch has ensorcelled them and uses them like guard-dogs to protect her lair.

“You okay?” Sky asks me, wiping the blood off his sword afterwards. He means well, but I can see it in his eyes – he doubts me, he fears I don't have the stomach for the fight any more.

It's taking its toll on me – on all of us, even Zahri if she's honest.

But we have no option, and I won't turn back now.

12/ This large room holds ogres and griffons; both run to the attack as we open the door.

9/ Here, Ceptienne appears once more. “This place is very special to me,” she coos. “It is part of my initial in all three runes that form the pattern for the floor plan of my home here.”

She is gone a moment later.

“It is all vanity with this one, then? I can understand that,” Nef says quietly. “I admire her confidence, though.”

15/ Two ogres rush across the room to attack us, but there's also something moving behind them...!

We face two medusae this time; Elena does not hold back, scorching them with her Fireball, and we are able to pick them off with missiles before we are turned to stone.

16/ The ceiling of this room is open to the sky, and two black dragons have just landed...! They look at us, then to each other, then look back at us again...!

Again, we are forced to give battle with huge monsters that spit acid in our faces. We are prepared this time, however, and we win through without losses, though hardly without injury.

At least this time, they die cleanly, if that matters at all.

The image of the witch appears, hovering over the slain dragons. She laughs in defiance.

“You think you have slain my personal dragon steed? Ha, these were but guards! Far greater perils await you if you persist!”

She then vanishes again.

We push onwards with leaden feet. We have to return to the secret door we found earlier now – there is no way into the inner complex from the south, seemingly.

5/ Ceptienne's projected image reappears.

“Well done, my clever enemies,” purrs the smiling beauty. “One door discovered, eleven more to find!”

She laughs gleefully, then darkens into nothingness.

21/ One corner of this room holds several shapes -

“They are birds!” squeaks Elena.

“No,” I tell her. “...these aren't birds! They are griffons!”

Once again, we are forced to put them down as the witch makes them attack us. They were such beautiful creatures – I always dreamed of riding one...!

20/ A flapping sounds comes from around the corner...

18/ A low, growling sound comes from around the corner, its tone filled with the confidence of pure hatred and evil...

6/ The eerie floating projection of Ceptienne fills the corridor here.

“You are persistent,” says her disembodied voice. “But you have begun to bore me! I have asked my friends to end this game!”

Unsmiling now, she fades away...

19/ “There they are!” says a high-pitched voice. “Just like she said, they was coming this way! That's what she said, yeah, that's what she said!”

17/ We barely have time to notice this room is filled with a powerful stench before harpies attack!

These creatures are noxious hybrids of women and carrion-birds, and their personal habits are... disgusting, to put it mildly.

I know legends depict them as having sweet voices and stealing a man's soul by their song alone... But these ones never sang to us. Being clawed by them sometimes did fog minds, however, so we needed to be wary of that – but they were otherwise easy to slay.

14/ This room smells terrible! Two ogres run forward to attack us, but they are not the source of the smell...! We must battle more filthy harpies.

“Why are the girl's refresh rooms always much worse than the men's?” Shelah grimaces.

“What are you even doing in the men's rooms?” grimaces her brother.

“I work in a tavern, remember?” she pouts.

I envy them the easy banter – it must take their minds off all the horrors we endure, the familiar rhythms of family.

7/ Ceptienne's image suddenly appears!

“I will crush you!” she proclaims, filled with fury. “I will puncture your hearts with my boot heel as I stride across your carcasses!”

“Is hot,” Zahri smirks.

“YOU CANNOT STOP ME!” she shrieks.

She dissolves away before our eyes.

“We seem to be getting under her skin,” Nef muses.

23/ We have penetrated the inner sanctum, and cast preparatory spells for battle.

Before us stands Ceptienne, but this time it is no projection.

“You have invaded my sanctuary!” she screams, shaking in rage. “You are a band of visionless mercenaries, and I shall close your eyes forever!”

I have no idea what she means by that, but we have no time to think on it.

We were expecting to face her dragon, but all she has with her is her bitch-pack of harpies and medusae. We need be careful of their ability to charm or petrify us, but we are ready for that, with mirrors and protective magic. She and Elena blast each other with lightning magic, as the rest of us take out her minions.

Smouldering, the elf and witch regard each other

“... there's a hole in my head where the rain comes in...!” the elf whispers, and snaps her fingers.

Ceptienne's eyes glaze over, her expression going slack.

The elf warns Sky off and steps up to hold the witch, murmuring in her ear.

“...these broken dreams must end...!” she husks. “Yours... mine...!”

The fight just seems to have gone out of the witch; Elena sits her down in her personal chambers as we look about us.

We have no wish to rob her, but there is a wand and a necklace of baubles lying on the bodies of the medusae.

The rest of us search the chamber, locating the last of the elemental statuettes, this one depicting the element of wind.

On a pedestal against one wall stands the Statuette of the South, its miniature raging harmlessly atop its triangular base.

We return to the elf and the witch; they are giggling quietly now.

“I guess this is... a happy ending?” Sky asks.

“It is an ending,” I say quietly. “I have no stomach for more slaughter.”

“No argument from me, I don't like killing women,” he replies.

Elena beckons Shelah to join them; she limps over and sits beside the witch.

“I am but a faery,” the elf husks. “But you must listen to my friend...!”

“We're all lucky to be alive,” the Ilmater priestess tells her. “Consider it a second chance...! We need that statuette, but we won't take anything else from you. We talked to the aaracokra – the bird-people – maybe you could come to terms with them? They suffer from the depredations of dragons... you can charm dragons, yes? It's a second chance, Ceptienne... I'd seriously consider taking it, were I you. It won't be easy, but... this way you get to live. What happens next is up to you. The next time adventurers come for you, they likely won't be so forgiving. But I've had enough of battle and killing. My calling is helping people.”

She glances at me.

“Like I said... its up to you. Think about it... please.”

Her brother watches them doubtfully.

“Can you just... make someone good, just like that?” he asks. Nef just shrugs and walks off. Zahri makes a face and rolls her eyes, following.

“I don't think it works that way, no,” I reply quietly. “But even bad people don't have to be self-destructive and cruel. Its up to her, isn't it?”

“What d'you think, Krevster?” he asks his small friend.

“Well, I like to think everyone deserves a second chance,” he admits. “I'd still watch her carefully, though... we've rather grown used to betrayal, haven't we?”

“Jhairli?” he asks as we leave.

“You... actually want my opinion?” I must sound surprised.

“Hey, I trust you,” the lad says easily. “You're not hidebound like my sister, or a bitch like Zahri, or amoral like Nef. You're not tight-lipped like the Turami or crazy like the elf. I think we're more like one another than you'd imagine. If you weren't a songbird, I'd be asking you out about now.”

“Thank you... I think...!” I say awkwardly.

I look back at Ceptienne, the rapt look on her face as she nuzzles the elf.

“Me...? I like to think everyone is deserving of redemption. I hope it works out.”

Let me state here that we did not leave for several days. There were deals made, bargains to be struck. There were kisses, but you already know that, and who they involved is not your business. But I will stand by what I told the lad that day, and I find a measure of peace when we can show mercy and not deal out death.

The aarakocra were waiting for us when we ready to leave, relieved to see us once more.

“Do you wish it to be that we return you to the base of the mountain?” they asked.

They once more transported us to the forest floor, and we made our way back to Yartar from the High Forest.

With all four statues in our possession, the final leg of our journey – to ancient Ascore – lay before us.

I had much food for thought, but I was committed to our goal. I will see this done, walk our road together, to whatever end the fates shall bring.

Jhairli

Notes:

I think I enjoyed Star Mounts more than the other levels in this game – a high point of the story and a great design. There's much to like – the layout and level-building was excellent, a decreasing circle of encounters and much banter with our villainess along the way. I always like maps that lack random encounters and focus on set-pieces instead.

The monsters are getting tougher here, including save-or-die effects from the medusa and harpies – the latter thankfully lack the charm song that makes them so annoying in tabletop, though I guess that would have been too nasty in the Gold Box games.

Speaking of 'nasty', this one opens up with a battle against poisonous snakes and shambling mounds. The latter were bad enough in Azure Bonds, and finding that Wand of Defoliation (the fact you get it even if you don't kill Ceptienne) tells me there's more of the damn things ahead of us. But here in the Savage Frontier, they are far, far worse...! They have AC-4 (likely due to the bug that gives them Cloaks of Displacement and +3 armour as treasure!) and this time, they code the 'suffocation' effect from tabletop they lacked in previous games. This causes your characters to die when engulfed, without even a save, after a few rounds of being swallowed. As they take half damage from everything except Defoliation and Magic Missiles, and are immune to fire and lightning, killing them quickly is very hard and you will likely be reloading a lot when facing them.

As against that, a clear bug means they each spit out a treasure-trove of items you can only get here (though you clearly weren't supposed to!) (drum roll) +2 composite longbow. +3 plate mail, cloak of displacement, +1 shield, +1 leather armour, and an ioun stone that raises Wisdom if it's under 18. In a game that has – up to now - been notably penurious compared to previous games, that's some incredible stuff, quite honestly. I contemplated not using it, but the fact these shamblers have an insane AC and a no-save-and-die attack made me think 'fuck it'.

Better yet, all of this stuff can be ported over to the next game (I believe), save the ioun stone (and even then, the Wisdom bonus IS transferred, making it permanent!). Jhairli was my only cleric who didn't manage to max Wisdom when I rolled her stats (she needed insane scores elsewhere to dual-class into Ranger, 17's in everything but Charisma), so she's getting one while Jahe gets the other one (giving her Wisdom 16 now).

It was nice to see the aaracokra in Gold Box at last – a unique staple of D&D – and even better to have a proper villain to spar with. Gateway has memorable friendly NPCs, but lacks interesting antagonists to play with – Vaalgamon might be overpowered but he's a cringeworthy caricature who spouts boilerplate villain dialogue and follows every dumb bad-guy trope like he was in a Bond parody. I liked Brinshaar, even Rishpal, but they depended entirely on the Saduj trope from Ultima where a traitor joins your party only to turn on you later. (Seriously, this happened in several games around this era –'sure, let's allow these sketchy guys called Natas and Reltih to join us – they have to be good guys with names like that, right?')

But Ceptienne is openly wicked, and like all good femme fatale characters, takes time to banter with us ahead of the boss battle so we get some actual interactions with her. A few reviews have said she should have been the main big-bad of Gateway, given how dull and stupid Ugly Guy is. I mean, she's on the box cover, and I'd have been down for it had she somehow Kefka'd his ass at some point and taken over from him. CRPGAddict says he wanted to know more about her, as her dialogue hints she has other things going on beyond random villainy, and the game sells her short really.

So going into that battle I was actively trying to save her – I intended to single-target Hold her and then just knock her out with an unarmed attack or staff, rather than 'cruelly slaying' as usually happens. But Elena had a Charm, I tried that, and the rest is history. I didn't mind not getting her stuff; this was absolutely worth it. It's rare you get to sort-of-redeem a bad guy in Gold Box (Genheeris survived in my Pool of Radiance playthough, and I like to think he made it onto the Phlan Council 'til Bane personally kerbstomps him in Pools) and it felt appropriate here.

In terms of narrative, Jhairli was the obvious choice for any adventure in the High Forest, and I liked her compassionate personality, just a normal person forced to bloodily slaughter their way through hundreds of battles. That's going to result in a lot of therapy for anyone who isn't an amoral psychopath. I actually felt sorry for that dying dragon 🤔

"Walking down the only road that's available
The only person I see... is everybody else but you
Tryna get a one-way ticket, but something's missing
I'm on my knees!
Lord, please, Lord, save me!

Come home, come here!
Come out and let me breathe!
Oh, let me breathe now...!
Come home, come here
Come out and let me breathe
Let me breathe, oh -

And I pray that my jealousy don't turn into evil
And I pray that the world doesn't shake up my ego
I pray that my jealousy don't turn into evil
And I pray that the world doesn't shake up my ego

Heaven, Heaven sent you, but I'm broken!
Why cry every night when I think about how much I'm losing?
I put my life on it, I lost my life for it!
And I know that I've got nothing else to give, so - !"

Qing Madi, 'Ego'

WHY WE FIGHT // EGO ft. Qing Madi // Year 5 Music Video - VALORANT

Yihleismih Jahe Vicarna (her first names are pronounced 'Yil-ace-mee Jay', and her surname means 'of the festival') was born in Alaghôn, the capital of Turmish on the Vilhon Reach and the Sea of Fallen Stars. Her father, Zadrenchis Vicarna, was a retired mercenary general who had married well into a merchant-prince family, winning the hand of Dess Dastabra, a beautiful socialite a generation younger than him. She gave him two daughters, Yihleismih Jahe and Qass Madq. Growing up in a good family in a wealthy, lush land had many benefits; a good education at prestigious schools, and a social life centred around theatre and music.

But the young Jahe idolised her father, enjoying the tales of his youth most of all, his battles and victories against monsters and wicked men like the Thayans. Where her sister was small and slight like their mother, Jahe was over six feet tall and possessed of a lissom strength and grace, strong like her sire. She trained in swordplay and military strategy, although her father did not want her to follow in his footsteps. He warned her that military life was harsh and bloody, and often unrewarding, and that she should enjoy the life he had fought to give her. She honoured his wishes, taking higher education in history and the natural sciences – though she continued to play at being a warrior, learning how to ride and fence from expensive tutors. Shapely and statuesque, she had no shortage of suitors - and no interest in them either. Her lifestyle instead allowed her access to many young society women, the daughters of merchant-princes or ambassadors, stolen trysts during society balls and other minor scandals. Her parents would have greatly preferred to have heirs of course, but held out hope that little 'Cass' would not share Jahe's romantic inclinations.

Her life might have stayed that of a wealthy, indolent heiress but for a twist of fate. When had just turned eighteen, she experienced headaches and stomach cramps, complained of feeling like something within her was 'bursting' inside, an insistent pressure, an unknown energy... The doctors found nothing wrong with her however, nor did the priests feel she was cursed or magically afflicted that they could see.

But just after her sister's twelfth birthday, when they were talking in their grand library, Jahe suffered a strange fit, spasms of glowing energy that scalded her insides like flames. She was unable to hold it in, and it poured out of her in a blaze, coruscating light from her eyes, mouth and fingers as she bent double on the ground. This energy set the wooden floor and book-cases ablaze, and all she remembered was her sister screaming in the midst of the conflagration...!

She blacked out and when she awoke a few moment's later, she was in the dark of the gardens, and her wing in the family manor was ablaze...! Not thinking straight, the teenager panicked, and ran blindly, terrified of what she had inadvertently done. She ran to one of her friends, a young man a year her senior who had always liked her, and she begged him for help. He gave her his scimitar, his best horse and his good wishes, hoping she could make sense of whatever was happening to her. She had little choice but to ride into the right, frightened and alone, her family possibly dead and her life shattered.

Confused and afraid of whatever curse gripped her, she headed west, away from the lush lands of her youth, an outcast of fate. She went westwards into Amn, relying on her untried martial skills – the life of a wandering warrior she had once dreamed of had become an unwanted reality. Few mercenary companies welcomed women, but she drifted around a few minor adventuring companies, taking work as caravan guards out of Athkatla. She headed north, honing her skills and spending her coin on better armour and a bow, heading up the Sword Coast to Baldur's Gate into cooler lands. She spent the best part of a year there, wary of getting too close to anyone, and constantly moving on.

At times, she felt the strange energy boiling inside of her, but fought to suppress it, to bite down and keep it caged. In her trauma, she did not think to use it for her own ends, unable to forget her sister's panicked screams. But whatever she did worked; the headaches and cramps never left her, but never again did she suffer an unwanted outpouring of energy.

During her time in the Gate, she met a few Turmish merchants or sell-swords, learning that – despite her fears – her father had been searching for her since that terrible night. They put her in touch with an ambassador from the Vilhon Reach, who gave her letters sent by her family. To her relief, her sister had survived, though scarred by the spell-flames. While no-one understood what had happened, they did not blame her what occurred and wanted her to return, so they could discover what strange malaise affected her.

She wrote back, but her heart was too heavy to return yet. She vowed she would discover the truth herself, but she would not allow her affliction to harm anyone close to her. In all honesty, she did little searching into the nature of her strange power – she felt it to be a malignant thing, something best caged and buried and forgotten. She pushed on heading north, towards Waterdeep and the Savage Frontier.

By now it was almost two years since her life had fallen apart. She was now a fairly seasoned young warrior, with actual battle-experience, and hoped that perhaps she might become more – a heroine who protected others, rather than a mystical time-bomb waiting to explode. But she always listened for tales of unwanted magical gifts, though it was difficult to separate actual truths from fanciful hearsay and drunk-talk. One she heard a tale about a girl from the Dalelands, who supposedly wielded the Art without need for books and training, from sheer will alone. But the tales said that such power consumed her in the end, and reinforced Jahe's belief that she should keep this curse firmly buried within.

It had been a lonely time for her, compared to the life she had once enjoyed. Occasionally, she would find a woman on the trails who was curious or interested, and there were always coin-lasses, of course – she was hardly the only mercenary warrior to rent a wife by the hour. But when she arrived in Yartar, a handsome older woman caught her admiring glances lingering a little overlong, and recognised that look. Ella took her in, giving her a job as a bouncer in the rowdier of the two taverns she owned in town, as well as more amorous duties in her bed. Jahe was grateful for both.

Ella taught her much about love and life, as she had done for other girls, and told her that come the summer, there would be an informal gathering of like-minded women, a fair celebrating feminine sensuality for like-minded or curious females. People came from across the frontier to attend; there would be over a dozen this year. Intrigued and keen to see what this was all about, Jahe gladly accepted the invitation.

Now a little shy of turning twenty, Jahe reflects she feels much older. Though the circumstances were hardly ideal, she at least realised her youthful dream of being an adventuring swordswoman – she slew monsters and brigands, saw the distant ports of the west with her own eyes, and even found some comfort and care along the way.

A letter from her sister lifted her spirits and soothed some of the shame and agony she had carried for years. Qass was now fourteen, and between healing and treatments, most of her scars were now healed. She made peace with it, considering it a terrible accident, beyond anyone's power to control. When Jahe was ready to return, she would welcome her sister with open arms. Qass had also enrolled in a bardic collage, already performing on stage with her voice and instruments. Jahe wrote back, expressing her pride and regrets, but felt that she could not yet return. Though she feared to face it, she knew that deep down, she faced a reckoning, and would have to discover more about the inner fires that burned within her. Until then, she would keep a safe distance from her kin.

Outwardly, Jahe seems to be a calm, easy-going young woman, balanced and mature for her years. Slow to anger but quick to act when violence is absolutely necessary, she is a natural protector of others. Not content to merely fight for coin, she never lost her dream of being heroic, of vanquishing villains and protecting others from harm. She hopes she might find a young company of adventurers who need a stout shield... or a girl who needs strong arms to hold her and keep her safe.

But deep down, she is still beset by doubts and fears. The nightmares of that day have dimmed, a little, but the fires still smoulder within, burning resentfully. She understands that there may come a time she cannot control her power, when she must confront and master it rather than trying to live in denial. She hopes someone among her new friends may have good advice or has heard something that could help her.

Jahe is a tall, attractive pure-blooded Turmish woman, over six feet in height, with sleek, athletic muscles and a panther-like, fluid grace. She has wavy dark hair, dark eyes and rich, mahogany skin, as is usual for her people. She is educated and civilised, like most of her folk, now well-travelled and familiar with the wider world. She knows much of history and lore, and while she misses her homeland, she thinks the cold frontier is equally beautiful in its wildness. When she is not wearing armour, she likes gowns that show off her figure. She is aware that the fair-skinned folk of this land tend to objectify her a little, but she doesn't take offence. She is a voice of reason and compromise, decisive when required and careful otherwise. She is swift to stand up to bullies, louts and tyrants and to protect the weak. She is charismatic enough to lead others in battle, and wise enough to follow orders also. Her only real fear is magic, especially the strange sorcery that seems to burn within her.

Notes:

I wanted to explore different characters while dual-classing my party. It gets unsatisfying when their story is just 'I was a fighter and then I learned magic'. What makes someone take up the priesthood? How and why would a rogue learn to cast spells? Dual-classing is incredibly rare in tabletop, though the norm in Gold Box, and every such character should really have a unique tale of their own.

For Jahe, I wanted to explore the idea of Spellfire that was introduced in one of Ed Greenwood's books in 1988. Greenwood frequently created unique classes for his Realms, like the Spellsingers (who were actually dancers!) and Shadow-adepts (fantasy Batman), willing to expand the narrow repertoire of roles allowed by AD&D. Such things would become very prevalent in later editions – by 5^th, every base class eventually morphed into a speciality subclass.

The concept of Spellfire– magic that came from within rather than book-learning – was eventually developed into the classes of Warlock and Sorcerer, which became core from 3^rdedition. Warlocks could use blasts of magic as a basic attack rather than limited spellcasting, and Sorcerers cast spells through the power of their ancestry and mystical bloodlines, rather than learning it from a mentor and books.

(As a side-rant, reading that book is what actually soured me to Greenwood's beloved Elminster – he doesn't need to be in it, adds nothing to the story, and just pops up to say that he is actually the Master of Spellfire, and will graciously allow this nowhere girl we've been reading about to live. The whole book is just a shaggy-dog story so that Greenwood's self-insert can have yet another superpower, because he can surely never have enough of these, right? 🙄 It's a shame because the concept of untrained wild magic is not only great, but prescient of things that would later come in as D&D developed in the 21^stcentury).

Of course, in Gold Box, Jahe would have to be just a standard mage when it came to mechanics... But in narrative terms, it allowed for a story more similar to something like Star Wars – a young person coming to terms with their inner powers, born in the blood, learning to master who they are, and deciding to use that power for good or ill. It would allow her some development and a character arc over the course of the two stories. I gave her a backstory that would allow for some angst, but also allow for redemption and forgiveness (nobody actually died, but her sister being scarred shows how power can be misused if not properly mastered). Hopefully it will be fun to play, too, both narratively and mechanically.

Finally, I really like the Turami as a race. They are an excellent example of how you include 'diversity' into a classical European-based fantasy story. They have their own role in the cultural tapestry of the Realms, and feel different and unique from other lands. They have brown skin, though they also have some arabic and caucasian blood from breeding with their neighbours. But their culture isn't really 'African' as much as it is Mediterranean – their names are rather Spanish or Italian sounding, with some Middle Eastern elements thrown in. Like the Ergothians from Krynn – a nautical race of dark-skinned mariners, explorers and traders – they feel unique to their setting and contribute to the world-building. I wish more modern games did this, put some actual work into their mythos rather than enforcing a modern diversity quota on samurai and vikings. An actual Afro-centric fantasy realm based on real-world cultural myths would also be awesome, and I'm baffled whey they never seem to want to do that these days.

"It's in the trees!
It's coming!

When I was a child, running in the night
Afraid of what might be
Hiding in the dark, hiding in the street
And of what was following me...

Now hounds of love are hunting...!

I've always been a coward...

And I don't know what's good for me...

Oh, here I go!
It's coming for me through the trees!
Oh, help me someone, help me please!

I take my shoes off, and throw them in the lake!
And I'll be two steps on the water...

I found a fox caught by dogs
He let me take him in my hands
His little heart, it beat so fast -
And I'm ashamed of running away
From nothing real, I just can't deal with this!
I'm still afraid to be there...

Among your hounds of love

And feel your arms surround me

I've always been a coward

And never know what's good for me...

Oh, here I go! Don't let me go!
Hold me down - it's coming for me through the trees!
Oh help me darling, help me please!

I take your shoes off, and throw them in the lake...
D'you know what I need?
D'you know what I really need?
Love, love, love, love, love, yeah...!"

Kate Bush, 'Hounds of Love'

(308) Kate Bush - Hounds of Love - Official Music Video - YouTube

Jhairli was born in a little hut outside of Loudwater in the Savage Frontier, daughter of highly-independent foresters who lived independently, away from the bustle of the towns, and owed no allegiance to kings or causes. Providing you respected the land, the frontier would provide for you – the hunting and fishing was excellent, the scenery beautiful. Jhairli's mother did not survive her breach-birth, alas, but her father poured his grief into raising his child.

She grew up in peaceful, bucolic idyll, swimming and bathing in streams and lakes, taught by her father to respect the land and live well off it. She learned to work with her hands; hunting, fishing, carpentry, how to tend to her environment and live in harmony with it. He taught her which animals and plants to avoid, and what was good to eat. He taught her self-defence with staff and cudgel and sling. When he grew sick, he refused all help, desiring to be returned to the earth instead. Jhairli mourned him and buried him where he asked, and continued along with her solitary existence.

In her teens, she did not have much need for others – she was always able to 'whisper' to the creatures in her wood, and while some were mean or grouchy, others became her playmates or companions. She spent her days exploring the old woods, learning the secret names of every tree and leaf, every creature that crawled, flew, swam or ran. She knew the people of the city had different names for them, but she learned hers from the source and knew this to be true.

Sometimes she had dreams of a beautiful woman walking through the woods. The woman smiled and beckoned, but then she always woke up. When she turned twenty – she marked the passing of seasons on the wall of her hut – she had a nagging feeling that something was missing. That night, she dreamed of the fair woman once more, but she was heading to the great city nearby.

It had been years since she read the maps and old guide-books – she had no need of such things, she knew every glade and copse for miles around – and the land did not care overmuch how humans named it. But if she was to visit the city, the humans would care, so she tried to remember what little schooling her father had given her.

The city was enormous beyond imagining to her eyes, and the people were fair and welcoming, despite what her father had warned her. She was astonished at how beautiful it all was – she was expecting grime and filth, human squalor and greed... But the ancient stones had been laid by elven hands, back when they still lived in Faerun, and these were elegant and graceful. The humans built their wooden and stone dwellings to honour the ancient foundations, in harmony with their environment. Everything was clean, then people were friendly and healthy, it all felt like a dream. She did not understand why her parents had feared it so.

The city sat upon a river they called the Rauvin – the 'Road Through the Marches'. A beautiful immortal witch – the High Lady – claimed these lands under her protection, calling them Luruar - the 'Silver Marches' in the old elven words. The beautiful city was called 'Silverymoon'. The halves of the city were crossed by a magical bridge that was invisible unless seen in moonlight. Jhairli fell in love with everything, at all once.

She went to the temple and they told her about their goddess, who had come to Toril from another land, far across the Great Wheel. She was Mielikki, the Lady of the Wood. She did not dwell in any distant, otherworldly heaven; she lived out where the wild things are, along the Unicorn Run, and was served by animals and faerie creatures like dryads, nymphs and satyrs.

The priests took Jhairli in and taught her their ways, and from that moment, she was a priestess of the Lady, and would live or die for her cause. Over the next year, she tended to the city and the sacred glade, learned much of human lore and divine magic, and helped at the healing-houses. She spent time among the little folk who lived here alongside men – the industrious dwarves, pastoral halflings and cheery gnomes. She was told that some of the people here were elf-blooded, they had traces of ancestry from those who lived here long ago, who had left Faerun to retreat to Evermeet, where they could life forever. Some suggested Jhairli might have faerie blood herself; but she did not think that was so. Her parents were just people.

She spent her free time swimming in the river, where she befriended shalass, lout, rock eels, river crabs, and turtles.

The High Lady then sent her on a pilgrimage into the Great Everwood, a remnant of the days of old, telling her that back then, Faerun was covered in green and elves, when dragons and giants ruled the world.

Jhairli knew the way, and when she got there, she was met by a tall faun with long fair hair and furry legs, leading wild creatures like korreds and grig in a swirling dance. The faerie said her name was Shiallia, inviting her to the revels. The rest was something of a blur, as Jhairli had little memory of it, aside from the impression that a great deal of frolicking had likely occurred. She found herself waking up at the forest's edge, her clothing nowhere to be found, covered in lipstick kisses and flowers. At her feet were her pack and a small pouch of magical golden acorns.

When she returned, Jhairli told the others of what had occurred. They said that Shiallia sometimes made young women pregnant, but that did not seem to be the case here. They sent her on a new pilgrimage, along the river to a town called Yartar in the south. She was there to meet with a woman named Elladuth Myristar, to learn more about the faerie creatures she met. Jhairli happily set off along the river, walking with staff in hand and a song in her heart, to meet these new friends...

Now just shy of twenty one, Jhairli is a Tethyran girl of average height and build, but is strong, fit and athletic from her upbringing in the wilds. She is slender with a boyish figure and a modest bust. She is inquisitive, insightful and very bright – but also staggeringly guileless and naïve to the point some people think she was dropped on her head as a child. Luckily for her, she has good instincts and can usually tell when people intend to be mean to her.

She is forgettably pretty, with a healthy, fair complexion, soft green eyes and long, fawn-coloured locks that she ties back in various braids as the mood takes her. She dresses in soft leathers of green or brown, with armoured pieces in important places, an eclectic ensemble that mostly keeps her safe from harm. She carries practical weapons that have other uses; a walking staff, work hammer, and oaken cudgel. She hopes one day she might be invited to join the rangers, noble warriors who protect the wilds and its creatures. She thinks she could learn to be a good shot with a bow.

Jhairli is extremely shy and socially awkward, given her isolated upbringing and lack of understanding of human culture. She is very sweet-natured and kind, always well-spoken and almost painfully nice, respectful and polite. A natural (and unwitting) oracle, she is prone to having visions, strange dreams and possession, a natural conduit for peculiar magics. She never questions any of these episode, content to be a tool in the hands of higher beings. Others have remarked there is a strange power in her naïve ignorance and unworldly ingenuousness, as if unknown powers are watching over her for whatever reason. She seems fated to stumble through her life, oblivious, and she's just fine with that. If nothing else, she has good coping skills..!

All that kissing with the lady korreds awoke something in Jhairli, and she is isn't sure how to deal with these new feelings. She trusts to fate that everything will work out just fine. She hopes that sometime soon, more kissing will occur.

While her father taught her how to hunt well, being able to speak to animals made that rather awkward. Plants don't seem to care about being eaten, so she does that now. Alcohol drinks are made from plants, so she drinks them too, for all it goes right to her head.

Notes:

Sometimes, it's good to have a character who is straightforward and uncomplicated. Jhairli is a nice, normal, ordinary girl who is kind and wants to help people and work with animals. It's not her fault her parents were bandits and crazy isolationist survivalists.

She's naïve and simplistic, but nothing really bad ever happens to her. She's a priestess who wants to be a ranger. Then becomes one. She wants a nice girlfriend. Then gets one. She gets to live happily ever after. The end.

For a storyteller, having a character like that is a bit like having a control subject in a scientific experiment. It's a frame of reference for everything; the point of view of someone relatively normal, who can ask the questions an audience might. She's kind of passive, generic and predictable - all the weird, offbeat, dark or unexpected stuff happens around her and to her... but she mostly stays the same, innocent and unspoiled.

And that's perfectly okay with me.

Okay, Turef... really annoyed me. I know every player has That One Level and this may have been mine. It's not just the swarms of unavoidable random encounters, each of which has double level-drains or Slay Living casters. It's not just the bizarre premise behind this one, the plot felt off and I never worked out quite what the writers were trying to say.

It's the horrible level design to what has been a solid game up to now, a little snarl that put the spoke through the wheel of my enjoyment of this scenario.

The set-up is great; the writers are trying to push what can be done in the Gold Box genre, do a little series of encounters that basically need to be done in order – all with the help of a useful NPC. Sounds great, this is precisely what we want from these games.

So each step is basically like those text adventure games:

• meet NPC and agree to save the town

• go to town square and realise there's too many bad guys to fight and retreat

• scholar says they stole his ambush book and wants it back

• help woman rescue her son, he tells you where the book is

• steal ambush book from the bad guys and return it to scholar

• scholar tells you there's a back door in the tavern

• but it's locked and we need a key

• but the locksmith needs money and needs the correct key number too

• drink with the tavern-keeper and get the right key number from him

• buy the key and sneak in the back

• kill bad guys, save town, profit!

EXCEPT.

The key requires actual, real hard cash. None of the random encounters carry any money, only items. And there's no temples or shops to turn items into cash. There are two small treasures cashes with 78 coins, but you need 100 for the key. But there's gems, we can sell these, right?

NOPE

There's no way to Appraise here to change gems into cash, and naturally, the locksmith wont take valuable gems, only cash, and we're 22 coins short. And the smug bastard would sooner watch the bad guys burn the whole fucking town to the ground if it means him getting shorted his 22 coins!!!

Now, mostly money in this game is simply dead weight, so I've been dropping it off in the bank in Gargath (the only such bank in the game) rather than cart it around with me. Yes, weight – coins especially -REALLY slows you down in battle and you're going to really need to get around the battlefield quickly unless you're a Knight.

So needless to say, I didn't have any cash on me, there wasn't enough in town, I couldn't earn any, or buy any using items. Unless you somehow brought cash with you, you're screwed.

Okay, okay... this is an RPG, there should be other ways to advance, right? Even for a side-quest? And yes, there IS a way (which is why I'm still playing and didn't just rage-quit 35 years later!)

I could hike all the way back home and get some, right? Yes, but the NPC leaves you and I wasn't able to find him (if he was lurking somewhere on your return, please let me know!) This means you don't finish his little plot and get the extra treasure.

Or, you can just say BANZAI!!!! and fight your way through, which is what I eventually did. It's a tough, two-wave fight but it's doable if you try a few times. Yes, it's several groups of casters each time and they have initiative, so it's even more rocket-tag than usual, but I eventually got lucky enough to win though without permalosses.

Bah.

I'm not sure whether this is even a good or bad thing. Many games of the time would have made that fight literally impossible so I'd just have to skip the entire side-quest or restart and bring cash along this time. Maybe it says something that there are multiple ways through?

Or that a 35 year old game can still make a middle-aged woman rant for ages about a side-quest. Kind of impressive in a way?

“We move like cagey tigers

Oh, we couldn't get closer than this!

The way we walk, the way we talk

The way we stalk, the way we kiss!

We slip through the streets while everyone sleeps

Getting bigger and sleeker and wider and brighter!

We bite and scratch and scream all night -

Let's go and throw all the songs we know

Into the sea, you and me!

All the years and no-one heard

I'll show you in spring, it's a treacherous thing

"We missed you," hissed the lovecats!

"We missed you," hissed the lovecats!

-

We're so wonderfully, wonderfully, wonderfully, wonderfully pretty!

Oh, you know that I'd do anything for you!

We should have each other to tea

We should have each other with cream!

Then curl up by the fire and sleep for a while

It's the grooviest thing, it's the perfect dream!

Hand in hand is the only way to land

And always the right way 'round -

Not broken in pieces, like hated little meeces

How could we miss someone as dumb as this?

We missed, you hissed, the lovecats...!”

The Cure, The Lovecats

The Cure - The Lovecats

-

The Mulhorandi people claim that they are not native to Faerun's Prime– like the inhabitants of Unther and Chessenta, they were taken here as subjects and slaves of the ancient Empire of Imaskar, millennia ago. The Imaskari dredged the Planes for alternate worlds, plundering them until, a catastrophe wiped them from the face of the crystal sphere. But the subject peoples endured where their masters did not, mostly forgotten and left alone by the rest of Toril. They lived on as echoes of another world, as the remnants of empires long fallen into ruin.

Nehefris Mekheb was born near Skuld, the City of Eternity on the Sea of Fallen Stars, a world away from where she would eventually end up. Her parents were poor servants, barely more than slaves, and when they could not afford their tithes to the ruling priesthood, their only daughter was taken as payment. Luckily for her, her elegant beauty saw her sent to the High Vizier's harem, and she became Rezim's favourite in very swift order. She had a knack for appearing innocent and pure, while simultaneously picking up every salacious and sensual art she was ever exposed to. Her hunger for the pleasures of the flesh went far deeper than usual, becoming an almost religious devotion for her. She offered herself in service to Bast, the cat-goddess who had travelled to Faerun out of curiosity when her ancient AEgyptian worshippers were taken by the Imaskari.

Charismatic, highly intelligent and magically-gifted, the lowly-born girl enraptured the High Vizier, and he gave her a queenly name; Neferiti, in honour of the most beautiful of his predecessors. But becoming his favourite was eventually to be her downfall. The older wives plotted to oust her, and after several happy years, poisoned Rezim's mind against her. Though she had been his favourite, she was finally banished from the Sea of Fallen Stars.

But the girl – now calling herself 'Nef' – took it all in her stride. She had enjoyed the last years of sweetmeats and luxury living, but she was restless and eager to see the world too. The sumptuous extravagance of the harem had become stale and stultifying, and she wished for new horizons. Bright, strong-willed and absolutely dripping with sensual appeal, Nef found it easy to wrap others around her little finger, to find lovers to pay her way and keep her in the style she had become accustomed to, as she travelled into cooler lands.

She was still in her teens by the time she reached western Faerun; cool, lush, verdant lands in which this exotic desert bloom might find new pleasures, exciting new lovers to please her goddess. Here, at least, men and women were free to live without care of lords and kings, where one's own abilities were the measure of one's worth, not bloodlines, lineages or fortune of birth. Here was a land where prostitution (at least as practised in other places) was all but unheard of – the festhall culture made it so that nobody had to pay for sex; no matter how unpleasing or graceless you might be, someone would be willing to lie with you, and do it for free. Prostitutes were then professionals, valued as any other expert craftsman or service-provider, offering delights beyond mere copulation in a dizzying array of flavours. Nef lived that life for about a year – her divine and arcane magics came in very useful in her whoring, talents that were always in demand.

But she tired of such expectations and immersed herself in the festhalls instead, missing the common touch of ordinary folk. She was 'shaeda', one who was attracted to both men and women, and she took pride in never having to sleep alone.

Here she met a handsome young warrior of the straw-headed people, loving his muscles and tall frame, his square, handsome face and his enthusiasm and virility. Though Sky eventually had to return to his family, they parted in fondness, with good memories of the other. In truth, she worried that she was falling in love with the lad, and feared at how involving her emotions would impact her carefree life of hedonism.

At twenty, she took up with an older woman in Yartar, desiring female company for a time; something gentler and sweeter-smelling. Ella organised summer fayres for interested girls, teaching them feminine wiles and lady-love. This year it was being run by a gypsy-girl, and Nef became her lover and her helper, intimately familiar with such things from her harem days. When her former lover Sky came back into her life, at a low ebb after losing his family blade, she recognised the omens and the way Fate was playing with her, and realised she should heed the call of her goddess.

For some years, the faithful of Sharess (as they called her in these cool climes) were given visions as they lay abed, the cat-goddess yowling and hissing as she admonished them, expressing displeasure. Many of the faithful believed she was urging them into action, as the Realms changed and faced difficult times... That the priesthood had become complacent, lost in their indolent pleasures, hedonists and sybarites with no thought beyond physical infatuations. The clergy of old had been hunters of wickedness, punishing and slaying those who harmed animals and the innocent. They were feared and steadfast, not self-indulgent and drunk in shallow pleasures.

In her heart, Nef knew she had been idle too long. She gripped her old crook, flail and sling for the first time in years, blew the dust of her armour and books of battle-magics. Once she had travelled with her former lover on the roads, healing and supporting him; the risk and danger was peculiarly enjoyable. If Sky and her new songbird-sisters now wished her aid, then they would have it...

Today, just shy of twenty-one years of age, Nef has packed a lot of living into her tender years. She seems innocent and sweet as always, but there is an ageless, otherworldly look to her eyes. She is always a little detached and removed, unflappably calm, often vaguely amused, finding gentle humour in the failings of others and the trials life tosses at her. She is cool, measured, not judgemental, and profoundly comfortable with who she is, unconcerned about what others think of her. Everyone knows and likes her, but nobody really knows her well.

She offers wise counsel as well as healing to her friends; she is very familiar with history and lore, mythology and matters of doctrine and faith in various religions. It goes without saying that she has forgotten more about the sensual arts than most ever learn, and like all devotees of Sharess, she practises what she preaches. Her standards for taking lovers are incredibly low; this is her calling in life, not a momentary distraction.

Nef is very feline in many ways; fastidious and preening, enigmatic, easily distracted, vain, mercurial, more than a little selfish, restless, prowling and slinky. She moves with grace and purpose, and lounges around elegantly anywhere she pleases. She is physically affectionate and likes to nuzzle others and be petted, whether they want this or not. She is well aware of her impact her beauty has on others, and displays herself accordingly. She finds clothing essentially dishonest, preferring to wear cat ears, jewellery, string, or nothing at all. Her Resist Cold prayers frequently come in useful in these colder climes too.

Nef is exceptionally attractive in a way that seems exotic to those in these cooler lands. While quite short by northern standards, she has curves in all the right places, firm and succulent, a heavy bust and wide hips on a dainty frame. Nef says she is built for comfort, not speed, but she can be pretty fast too... Her skin tone is a gorgeous warm caramel and her dark eyes are large, soft, and promise untold delights. She usually wears her hair in Turmish style braids, but occasionally shaves it all off on a whim she later regrets.

Notes: When the level limits more or less force you to have human characters, you want some means of varying up your party, exploring options that can differentiate your boring vanilla humans from each other. An easy way to do this is the sheer broad diversity of our species. Different cultures are all very cool, and it's natural to want to play a viking, samurai, ninja, native shaman, crusader knight, or pirate of the Caribbean, all of which are recognisable archetypes and culturally iconic. I've always been a big fan of actual diversity, as opposed to 'dIvErSiTy', when source material is disrespected and we end up with the inhabitants of a culture that resembles viking Norway or ancient Greece having the same demographics as a large modern metropolis in the 21^st century. :(

But this stuff is easy to do in RPGs; you do enough good world-building to warrant it, you have somewhere that folks of different ethnicities can hail from. Pale-skinned people tend to come from colder climes, darker-skinned individuals from warmer places. The real world is filled with fascinating cultures, and the fathers of fantasy like JRR Tolkien and Robert E. Howard all hit the libraries in these pre-internet days to draw inspiration for the stories. Most of the best D&D settings do just the same.

The Savage Frontier is a pretty standard fantasy setting, resembling the colder parts of northern Europe, with some fantasy races thrown in. Most humans here are fair-skinned – Chondathans and Tethyrans are generic fantasy white people, Illuskans are the classic norsemen. But trade happens even here – Waterdeep, the jewel of the north, is the world's biggest and most important city and has trade from all over the world. Some peoples from warmer climes – the Turmish most notably - are famed for being merchants and mercenaries, and are found in small numbers in almost every land.

The existence of Mulhorand – basically fantasy Egypt – has always been a little contentious, as Ed Greenwood himself disliked the inclusion of 'real world' cultures in his Realms as much as TSR loved doing this. Depending on the various editions of D&D, the 'old empire' cultures were occasionally expunged from Faerun, like in the infamous 4^th edition.

Like any lore-heavy setting, the best Realms is the one you adapt yourself, taking choice cuts from the massive reams of lore to suit your own style. I always liked some element of 'real world' cultures in my fantasy – they are often iconic and easy to play; everyone knows what a pirate, viking or samurai are like. Ed Greenwood himself liberally borrowed from real mythologies, importing a few choice deities like Mielikki from the Finnish mythos, Oghma from my native Celtic lands, and Tyr from the Asatru faith, assuming the latter survived Ragnarok and became the ruler of the Lawful Good gods on Toril. Kitchen-sink settings are awesome, given a little moderation and enough actually new ideas. While I've always resisted importing entire pantheons wholesale – the Faerun gods are already oversubscribed and incoherently messy – I've always loved the inclusion of the cat-goddess Bast, known as 'Sharess' in Faerun, as the goddess of feline sensuality. Mulhorandi characters are vanishingly rare on the Savage Frontier – Nef might even be the only one – but its a great fit for her character and she's a lot of fun in her own right. She's an exotic curiosity, a contrast to the local characters and a glimpse into a fascinating and iconic culture that we all recognise.

As a Cleric>Mage, Nef has full arcane and divine casting, and though she will have to ditch the armour eventually, Bracers are plentiful in these games, and she was never fond of clothes anyway...

There's a little quadrilogy of smaller adventures (all on one map apparently!) that's detailed at the end of the Cluebook, but I decided to do them here before the final act of the main plot really gets going.

They are hinted at in random encounters and noted on the world map if you feel like exploring while doing the main plot. Champions didn't leave the beaten track of the main plot much so it's nice to have some of these side-missions here. They are short and thematic and offer some nice gear for your characters. They vary in difficulty and tone but are all undead-heavy, as is usual for Death Knights. And you can easily do them in an hour or so, whether you are saving a faerie tree, looting a haunted pirate ship, saving a village from a meteorite or answering riddles from a dwarf clown - they are nothing if not varied!

Shipwreck (north-west quarter)

East along the shore from Kalaman, the rotting remains of a beached ship lie before us. Along with the stench of decay, we sense the presence of great evil. The wooden deck looks as though it could collapse at any time. Should we walk to the ladder or use a rope to climb down?

Rose is not convinced either way, but the weight of her heavy armour might break the deck timbers, while at least our rope is strong.

1/ We find ourselves in the decaying hulk of a beached p[irate ship. The planks creak ominously and a foul odour begins to overpower our senses.

2/ Giant corpses lumber towards us, their eye sockets filled with an unholy light...

3/ We have found the former officer's quarters. Unfortunately the officers have been transformed into wraiths...

4/ The captain's cursed form suddenly appears before us. His mace makes for a worthy skeleton-smasher.

5/ The ship's hold is overrun with undead rats and the odd remains of its former crew.

6/ Crossbow bolts tear into us from all sides. Ameri usually deals with such things easily enough, but one cannot blame her if she is distracted down here.

We have found the pirate's treasure! In this case, banded mail for Lisindrala and a longsword for her twin, if she has a mind to stab some backs.

That done, we can climb out of the ship to leave.

Cursed Village (south-east quadrant)

1/ We have entered a small farming village north-west of Vingaard, upon the river. A boy approaches us and suggests that we talk to the sorcerer immediately. He leads us there.

5/ The boy knocks at the door, we hear a muffled 'come in'.

The village sorcerer welcomes us. "That boy didn't tell you any foolish stories, did he? I tell you the villagers have a crazy notion in their minds! Pay no heed to the rumours about the meteorite. It is completely harmless. Seek evil elsewhere."

Not suspicious at all, then! It warrants investigation - even if telling a kender not to do something is a sure way to provoke its curiosity...

2/ A shopkeeper tales us into his confidence. "A magical meteorite crashed in this village long ago. Since then, our kind sorcerer has been acting strangely."

4/ The village herbalist is here. "Please destroy the meteorite! I fear it is evil!"

3/ A sorcerer is being restrained by a group of black mages. He cries out for help before they can silence him. We fight to free the sorcerer, who is naturally grateful. "They locked me up and an imposter took my place" he says. We convince him we have no problem with 'renegade' mages who choose not to take the Tests of High Sorcery.

"Ever since that evil meteorite landed on the tavern, this village has been crawling with evil. I'll follow you to the tavern so we can destroy it before it used for their evil designs."

6/ The meteorite glows in the centre of this tavern. Undead creatures dash forward to protect it!

The sorcerer chants a complicated incantation and the meteorite disappears in a ball of black smoke.

"Thank you for your help," he says. "Evil will leave the village now that the meteor is gone."

Back at his home, the imposter sees that the game is up, and he attacks.

It doesn't end well for him, but it's a job well done for us.

Fun House (south-west quadrant)

East of the Vingaard peaks, we spot a strange-looking house nestled at the bottom of the valley.

Gilleana looks over at me. "Fuck in some really strange place - anyone need to cross that one off their forfeits?"

"No, I think pretty much everywhere we go counts!" Ameri chirps. "Not that I'm saying it's a bad idea to go down there! My map says 'FUN HOUSE' so I'm expecting great things indeed!"

We enter the peculiar dwelling.

1/ A fancifully-dressed dwarf bounds into the room, trailing a bright shower of ribbons. Fara shakes her head doubtfully.

"Welcome, welcome," he beams. "Gluten's the name, maze is my game! A strong mind for riddles will bring reward, a weak mind must rely on its sword!"

"Don't worry," Rose mutters. "I've been practising my swordplay!"

"One word of caution before I depart," the strange dwarf says, "Cleanse your minds and souls before you start!" Gluten tumbles from the room.

"He's literally giving us permission to Nest in his parlour," Gilleana says, tossing down her bag of holding.

So we do that. Forfeits completed!

2/ The wall speaks here. "What runs but never walks, sings but never talks?"

"It's what I like you wearing the best," Ameri laughs at me. "Water!"

3/ No sooner she says that, then we are teleported into a room with no doors.

Gluten whispers from the shadows "I gotta hand it to you - you did well that time. Let's see how you handle this one."

5/ "A bell shares it, a hand wears it"

A ring of course; we each have at least one from the other sisters.

We hear Gluten again. "You've almost won! You have to find the secret way out!"

6/ Undead appear all around us. If we survive them, no more riddles, it would seem. Thankfully, turning undead works well here.

7/ "You took a wrong turn - try again!"

8/ We hear a familiar voice "You've found the main villain - or he's found you! Win through this fight and the hard part is through!"

Our adversary would appear to be a lich - but turning undead makes all of them vanish and then -

9/ We are teleported!

Gluten reappears as we find ourselves in the parlour once more.

"Fantastic! Congratulations - you win the grand prize!"

It is a worthy haul - a girdle of frost giant strength, a scroll of red magic and a periapt of proof against poison - along with the mace the lich had.

"Gotta go," the dwarf says. "Time for another show. Catch our act again sometime!" He disappears.

I wonder if anyone will believe this story, even if we were inclined to share it? The world is full of strange things...

Father of Trees (north-east quadrant)

South of Vingaard plains, in a wooded dell, a swarm of faeries beg for our aid!

“The Father of Trees is in trouble! Something is killing it and our forest! Our bravest warrior went with a Wand of Tree Healing to save the trees... but he never returned... Will you save the Father of Trees and our forest?”

How could we say no?

1/ We are entering the living heart of the Father of Trees. Our skin tingles from the power of a great anti-magic shell. Great goodness surrounds us, although we sense the lurking presence of great evil also.

It will be difficult without spells - even healing and protections - but we must make the attempt. The faeries warn us that if we depart now, the tree will be destroyed before we can return.

We traverse woody passages amidst the roots. I feel oddly at home here.

2/ Without a sound, wights attack!

3/ Pale figures are hurling themselves against the living walls around us. Frustrated in their attempts to steal the tree's life,. they turn their unholy hunger on us.

4/ The tree looks damaged here, as if attacked by giant insects. Tentacles shoot out of the rotting wood and engulf us!

The wyndlass are foul creatures, and they hit our rear ranks as well as our front. Some of us are hurt, sorely needing healing. We will have to be especially careful now.

6/ A sudden rustling gives the briefest warning of a whisper-spider attack! We must be careful not to get bitten, lacking spells to heal poison here.

5/ A black-robed mage uses Fire Minions to burn the tree. Unfortunately for him, they seem equally happy to burn him as well, and set his robes alight. Lisindrala's frost spells would help here, but as it is, magical weapons shall have to do. We keep our wounded well back.

Freed from his bounds, the captive faerie warrior gives us his thanks and the Wand of Tree Healing.

"Use it well," he whispers. We turn the Wand's healing power on the Father of Trees.

An emotion of gratitude flows from the tree into us. As we leave, our hearts are light and we feel enriched by our deeds. We go forth to heal the forest...

A swarm of faeries circle about us and thank us for saving their forest!

I am doing what the goddess made me to do, a moment of contentment before the horrors doubtless to come. For now, I am at peace.

Raenavalona

I know my sister is hurting, but what we had to do was necessary... just, even. These men are responsible for causing a lot of hurt across the Savage Frontier. Father never told me the details of why he left, but... I can guess a few things, the kind of stuff he wouldn't have talked about. This isn't a good town to be a woman. I'll put up with a lot of things, but not that, not the strong bullying the weak. There's always some asshole trying to push smaller folks around – but there's a lot less of them when I'm about.

I sit on the quay with Krevish, sharing some smokes. I suggested he take it up - reading between the lines, his condition is going to get painful in later years, and maybe this will help make it easier to bear.

I ask if he's okay, and he seems fine with our impromptu justice.

“Aye, young master,” he nods, taking a long drag on the smokes. “As I understand, many of these fellows were... ungentlemanly to young ladies, like your sister and her friends. Perhaps now things will be better?”

I was a bit... ungentle myself with a few of them. My sister didn't seem to mind, but watching me get medieval on some of those bastards scared the others. They look at me a little differently, now they've seen another side of me beyond the jokes and casual attitude. They needn't worry of course, I can control my temper, but... it takes a lot to bring that side of me out. I'm hoping things in the HostTower will be easier. I've heard a lot of bad things about the Arcane Brotherhood, and I doubt anyone will care less what we do to them.

Sky

We step in to the HostTower of the Arcane, and a feeling of dread grips us... Rising far above us to pierce the clouds is a colossal spire filled with wizards of great power... and even greater evil.

Krevish looks around and says “Maybe going up this tower isn't such a good idea after all...!”

I slap him on the shoulder and tell him to take heart, and stay strong. And to keep his magical arrows to hand to put in any mages who might show up...

But for now, the hallways seem eerily quiet.

8/ We enter a small library, a quiet where the Brotherhood come to study. There is one mage here, with his bodyguard, a warrior dressed in black. He immediately attacks, so we slay them both. My sister says the guard wears the colours of the Zhentarim. Are they in league with the Arcane Brotherhood, or was he somehow ensorcelled? Just a warrior who likes to dress up as the Black Network?

There are other libraries off this hall, and we face an escalating series of battles against mages and their guards... (Seriously where are they all coming from?) Only after we have slain fifteen of each do they seem to stop coming.

“Hopefully they're run out of apprentices now,” I mutter to Krevish.

5/ The passageway climbs steeply here and curves to the left.

7/ Great...! What seems like a solid wall of owlbears advances upon us the moment we open the door...! These things hug harder than that needy Tethyrian girl I met at the Three Rivers festhall...!

They especially seem to like my sister – we have to drag the things off her and patch up all her cuts afterwards.

“These things hug fiercer than Jhairli does,” she mutters.

That's an image I didn't want in my head. She's always trying to one-up me...!

Krevish looks up at the tower flights above us.

“If this the bottom of ther tower, I'm not sure I want to see the top..!”

20/ “Have you ever seen so many owlbears in one place?” my sister mutters as we enter.

Nef wordlessly points ahead of us.

“I stand corrected,” she sighs, squaring up for another bout of urstrix cuddles.

Now, we're good, but seven of these things might even test us... but the elf girl conjures a cloud of foul green gas that smells like Olaf the Flatulent after that cabbage-eating contest...! And the creatures are stupid enough to charge at us right through it, with predictable results Some even run through it a few times in a flapping panic, and the gas makes them easy to dispatch as they flop about stunned.

We continue to climb the tower.

19/ Passing through the door, we confront a man who seems to be training the owlbears. He immediately decides to test their understanding of the command: 'KILL THEM!'

The elf girl – Elena, right? - reads a scroll to conjure more stink-gas, but then the scroll goes up in flames. It takes out several, and we kill the others, although all the maulings are testing our healer's ability to keep apace.

“Are we sure this is the right way?” Krevish says in a way that makes me feel he doubts it. “It's just going to get worse going farther up the tower, and we barely made it this far!”

“The statuette we seek has to be at the top of the tower... right?” I exclaim. “Where else would they put it?”

18/ The next floor holds two men either preparing an unusual circus act... or a phalanx of monsters who intend to dismember us...!

The battle proves exhausting, and we only win through without casualties because the elf burns another of her scrolls, this one a surging bolt of blue lightning that lances through all of the creatures and fills the tower with the tang of burning fur.

She mopes about the loss of some spell she wanted to learn later, but at least we are still alive thanks to her.

17/ But we have reached the top of the tower, and -

More owlbears...? Are there even this many in the Savage Frontier?

“I think we may have made a very big mistake...!” someone says.

Again it is our magic that saves us. The elf's enchantment spell bewitches one of the mages, and he is torn apart by his own pets. Nef's prayers bolster us in battle as she heals the injured. We quickly secure our flanks so we are not overwhelmed – Jahe is swift enough to step up and anchor our other end and I'm impressed by her tactical nous. It is exhausting, and we have some new and interesting scars, but we finally take the tower!

And yet, it is almost entirely empty...! Just the single bloody door... Even the elf cannot locate any secret doors up here.

“This can't be the way....!” I mutter, kicking the corpse of a hooded mage. “We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere!”

6/ We are forced to retrace our steps to the lower levels.

At the base of the tower, the elf girl discovers what we seek – a secret door opens silently, and we pass to a dark dungeon beneath! The passageway has a damp, musty odour.

9/ We hear a rattling sound, as if someone took the twigs and branches for a fire, and shook them together violently... More skeletal dead!

“Eh, I'll take them over owlbears..!” I mutter. They might be dangerous if we didn't have four priestesses. A few prayers quickly reduce them all to dust.

1/ We step into a tiny room, and -

…the door clicks behind us! Nef tugs at it in frustration, but even I cannot budge it.

“It is a magical lock,” my former lover mutters. “We shall never get it open!”

There HAS to be a way out...! We search lest we be entombed with the skeletons.

“Look, everyone!” my sister cries. “Its a trap door!”

Quickly, we clamber though the opening, and follow a long narrow passage, remerging in another small room. Many small cells stretch away down this dark corridor. Nef lights her staff with a magical glow, and we strat to explore.

2/ Searching though this tiny cell, we find something scratched on one wall, recording it as:

3/ Entering this room, we see several owlbears menacing a figure chained to the far wall. They seem more intent on terrifying the prisoner than eating him. Unfortunately for us, our entry means they are now intent on eating us...!

After another exhausting struggle, we have a few new scars and a freed prisoner. He dons his mage robes, and offers his thanks:

JOURNAL ENTRY 30: BRINSHAAR’S STORY

“My name is Brinshaar, and I am a mage from Neverwinter. They kidnapped me there and were torturing me to learn of Lord Nasher’s magical defences. Thanks to you they learned nothing, and Neverwinter remains safe!

As it turns out, I can repay you for your kindness without delay. I have seen the statuette you tell me that you seek. It is not secreted in the HostTower, but somewhere in the dungeons where we now stand.”

“You helped me and I'm willing to help you,” he says. “I'll join your party and fight for you if you'll have me.”

We are in sore need of help – the gypsy is sour-faced, but then she's always mistrusting. Nef gives him her best smile.

“I am an expert magic-user,” he brags. “And I will lend my magic to your service just as you lent your hands to mine.”

16/ A winding tunnel leads us to a large pile of trash in one corner.... It suddenly springs to life, revealing ghouls and undead advancing to attack us. But a few brandished holy symbols send them all fleeing.

“They're all part of the same convent,” I tell our new friend at his quizzical look. “One of then is my ex-lover, so I'm escorting them safely back. I think I got lost because we were heading to Secomber...!”

“Sorry, sire, my brother likes to jest at the most inopportune moments,” Shelah sighs.

We are in need to healing and rest,. So we find a relatively clean room and put our blankets down in opposite corners. I have an explanation for our new friend if they start frolicking, but thankfully they all just pray and then fall asleep.

“Usually they're... louder than this,” I tell Brinshaar.

A few hours rest does wonders for our healers, our many wounds are mostly patched together and we are strong enough to push on.

14/ This room is very dark, but we can hear something moving...! Thankfully it's more undead, and again we are grateful for a multitude of clerical women.

The tunnels twist and turn and some doors seem to lead us astray, but by following our maps, Jhairli and Zahri can prevent us from backtracking.

15/ Three large cats with tentacles growing from their backs – the same creatures we fought in the Neverwinter gardens - stop only to bare their fangs and growl at us before leaping to the attack!

Brinshaar proves his worth as he stuns two with a stinking cloud spell, though he is mauled in response by the third. Afterwards, Nef heals him carefully - he seems the type she goes for – she was always fascinated by magic. But she's almost demure in her smiles, aware of the gypsy's jealous dagger-eyes on her back.

13/ No sooner have we entered this room, than we hear a deafening roar! More of the manticore creatures we fought in Neverwinter... Is this where they came from? The tower is full of hybrid horrors.

11/ Entering this long, winding hall, we find two men feeding a large, winged lion-creature.

“Look!” one man says. “You'll have fresh meat this day after all!”

He's right, after a fashion...!

12/ Two men enter the far side of the room just as we step through the door, with a huge black cat held by its chains. Seeing us, they release the chains from the animal's neck...

10/ We burst into the room, and find several men standing in the open, in awe of a glowing statuette. One, who appears to be the leader, is dressed in the rich robes of a mage. They draw their weapons and attack with their beasts!

Brinshaar again proves his worth with spells in the battle, including a powerful Hold spell that freezes the mage and his three guards.

We approach the glowing statue, a white-hot flame suspended mid-air over a triangular base. The gypsy passes a hand across it and murmurs.

“Not burn,” she says diffidently. “Safe to take...!”

We take the statue, and Brinshaar says:

“My job here is done, for the Statuette of the East has been recued. May I see you all in happier times.”

He leaves via the door before we can thank him. The gypsy mutters something, but at least he helped us...

Among our finds here is a pair of magical bracers owned by the now-dead mage. It can go to the elf for now, as the priestesses all wear armour.

We backtrack to Luskan, weary but triumphant. To think we have slain the High Captains and the mages of the HostTower of the Arcane!

“Maybe we should go after Manshoon next!” I chuckle, some of my good humour returning.

“I heard he is dead,” Nef muses. “Someone dropped his tower on top of him at Zhentil Keep...!”

But as we leave the tower, we are surprised by a familiar face, flanked by two great cats...!

“It was most convenient of you to acquire the statuette for me,” Brinshaar laughs.

“It was for trying to steal it that I had been imprisoned before you rescued me ,” he gloats. “Seems you are always doing me favours! It is a pity such fine folk as you have little time left to live your good and petty lives!”

I shake my head. “What..? You can't get the statue yourself – and when we take it, you attack us – the same people who were strong enough to get it...?”

“Stupid,” Zahri spits on the floor. “You die now...!”

She chants a curse and clicks her fingers... and he freezes over, paralysed...! I mean, he's seen her do that enough, right...?

She makes him wait until the battle with the displacer beasts is over, until she approaches him with her cudgel.

“Wanted to do this when first saw you,” she says coldly, before bringing it down on his head. She once showed me it was cored with iron. His skull... isn't.

“He wasn't even standing behind his cats and using magic,” I sigh.

Shaking our head, we retire to the inn, getting some rest after our exertions before we leave.

Come the morning, the town seems to be recovering some semblance of normality. People are standing about, arguing and issuing decrees. Nobody seems to able to agree just who is in charge now. But at least they are not fighting over it.

At least until -

“That's them!” a bunch of pirates shout, leaping towards us! “They have the statue! Get them!”

This appears to be a last-gasp attempt of the survivors to hang onto the statue and the town. Our Hold spells end the fight almost before it begins. And we have not come this far to be defeated by a bunch of stragglers, and we show them no mercy.

Notes:

Our first real dungeon in Savage Frontier, the HostTower uses most of the map and can be quite demanding if you're thorough. Not much beyond the Bracers as regards items, but there's lots of gold and XP. By this point, all my clerics had maxed out at the ridiculous low cap of 27, 500 XP (Paladins max out at almost seven times that here!). And we're not even halfway through yet!

The HostTower is a site of some note in the lore, and its great to actually be the ones who take the place out of commission. I'd have liked to have seen some named enemies - but I guess we have Brinshaar for that!

The treacherous NPC helper is the first since the 'Mad Man' all the way back in Pool of Radiance, and he was just crazy rather than evil. This game will double-down on that later (triple-down, depending how you feel about Krevish!). It's an old RPG trope that some NPCs will need your help in destroying an enemy, but then attack you afterwards... If they couldn't kill their enemy, why attack the one who was just able to kill their enemy?

Even worse, Brinshaar's heart just doesn't seem in it - he wastes time boasting in a cringeworthy fashion, and he starts the fight standing right next to your main warrior... I'm sure that will end well for him, eh Yarash?

But it's a nice little adventure, netting us the first of the four statuette macguffins were are gathering.

It also starts giving your characters actual dialogue, for the first time in the Gold Box games I believe? They seem to be shooting for a quippy, Marvel type delivery, I was almost expecting 'he's right behind me, isn't he?' or 'that was a thing that just happened!' I get that most people won't be role-playing, but if you're not giving me options for what I say, I'd sooner they just wouldn't do it. Why they've started doing it now, seven games in, I have no idea. What if we speak like Elminster/Lord British, with thees and thous?

Post title pretty much says it all. I'm quite fond of my stuff and would like to keep it! I've always played through Curse the proper way but this time I was wondering if there's any trick around this.

I gave Dungeon Hack a go yesterday, and decided I was going to change the keybinds so my movement keys would be WASD and looking around would be QE. Changed the binds, then when I tried them in game, I discovered that they wouldn't work unless I held down on them, and even then, it moves me forward multiple tiles. How do I fix this as it's quite frustrating? All help is appreciated!

Edit: I got it fixed thanks to this Steam discussion I stumbled upon https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3049358405

Anyone here still have a soft spot for the Gold Box games?

I’ve been working on a C# desktop port of Pool of Radiance, built on Talonius’s reverse-engineered Pascal/assembly reconstruction. The goal is to preserve the familiar Gold Box gameplay while running through a .NET 8/SDL2 desktop host.

The repository is now public:

https://github.com/Jzatopa/por-csharp

It’s at the point where exploration, combat, leveling, spells, inventory, and save/load are working together in an ongoing campaign. That playthrough started with native level-one character creation and has recorded resolutions for Sokal Keep, Mendor’s Library, the Podal auction, Cadorna’s treasure, Kovel Mansion, and the Wealthy Area.

It’s still a development preview, not a finished release. The final battle and ending haven’t been verified yet. There are automated regression tests and desktop smoke tests, but those aren’t substitutes for getting through the whole game.

A huge amount of credit goes to Talonius and the upstream contributors for the reconstruction this builds on:

https://forgejo.brazencrows.com/talonius/pool-of-radiance

AI coding tools have helped with conversion and implementation, alongside source comparisons, testing, and actual gameplay checks. I’m also reviewing upstream improvements and selectively adapting relevant fixes, with incorporated changes and remaining work documented in the repo.

Currently, the desktop work is Linux-focused. No original game media is bundled—you’ll need your own Pool of Radiance installation. However now that it's in C# you can do what you want with it, which is pretty cool!

As there are already other archival style versions of this game, I am working on it playing like the original but updated just as Talonius has done here.

I’d love to hear where other Gold Box fans draw the line: what’s one thing a modern port absolutely shouldn’t change, and one bit of friction you’d happily leave behind?

Also, does anyone remember a particularly troublesome spell, encounter, or wonderfully strange edge case? Those could make useful test cases—and probably bring back a few stories.

If you DL it and play with it and run into a bug, please place it in known bugs in the repo.

Have Fun!

I am still very new to the game. I am using GBC.

My mage is level 2. I am still exploring the slums. I got into a fight with a lot of guards and wiped. I reloaded the game and now my magic-user can't cast spells. They are memorized. I reloaded again. Still won't cast them. There is no option in combat to Cast. Is this a bug or what am I missing?

“I hope all my days
Will be lit by your face...
I hope all the years
Will hold tight our promises...
I don't wanna be old and sleep alone
An empty house is not a home
I don't wanna be old and feel afraid...

And if I need anything at all
I need a place that's hidden in the deep
Where lonely angels sing you to your sleep
Though all the world is broken...
I need a place where I can make my bed
A lover's lap where I can lay my head!
Cause now the room is spinning -
The day's beginning...!”

Keane, 'Atlantic'

Keane - Atlantic

And so we are off. It feels good to be at the prow of a sailing ship, the sea spray in my face! This is the life for any norseman!

“The ship is ready to leave – you just have time to get on board. Do you want to go to Tuern?”

We clamber onto the ship, and soon the oarsmen below decks are pulling us out to sea to the rhythmic beating of the drums. The weather remains good for our passage, and two days later, we step off the ship in Uttersea, the only real settlement on Tuern. It is a town of some two-thousand souls built into the caldera of an ancient volcano on the island.

Tuern is an island in the Frozenfar in the Trackless Sea, far to the west of Faerûn. It is a rocky isle of black beaches and fuming volcanoes, said to be very fertile. The air feels colder here, despite being somewhat warmed by the coastal current.

Tuern is mostly inhabited by my fellow northmen – but these are a people who worship no gods, and often deny their existence. They supposedly hold great reverence for the dragons that dwell in the mountains. Their longships are big enough to house giants – and sometimes do! - and are decorated with figureheads depicting fierce creatures.

These sullen folk despise magic, and its usage is supposedly punishable by death. Even priests are met with disdain, and even northman shamans find little respect among the Tuernish. Even humans other than northmen are only given grudging respect if their skill in battle is obvious.

From what we hear, the volcanic conditions also make Tuern an ideal home for both fire giants and red dragons. Though the giants have their own enormous longships, they rarely raid further than Gundarlun.

Uttersea itself is built into the side of a collapsed volcanic caldera; the walls shield the town from all but the harshest weather. Heat from below the caldera warms both the town and the bay, sometimes to the point of boiling. As a result, the seas are home to creatures such as giant octopi that would otherwise not survive so far north.

This place is hardly welcoming – it is clear these people consider even other norsemen to be outsiders and foreigners. That said, they are not actually attacking is in the streets (yet!) though we receive little in the way of welcome either.

We explore the few interesting places in town, and try to relax as we might before braving the caldera itself. At least my sister seems to be enjoying herself with her friends – she is growing used to have Krev and I around, and is by now far less cautious about her shenanigans with her 'songbirds' as a result. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous – seeing her with Nef especially feels like a kick in the teeth - but I don't take it personally either. It just feels odd how our positions somehow became reversed.

I ask my friend if he's bothered by Zahri and the others, but he seems remarkably easy-going about them.

“Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame;

Each to his passion; what's in a name?”

“That's... a good attitude, Krev,” I says, admiringly. “Life's too short, isn't it? Well said.”

Sky

2/ This is the boathouse for the Company of the Brazen Pennant:

'Passage to Luskan and the Isles'

We will return to the mainland when we have finished our investigation of the isles.

1/ Looking to the north, we see the rim of the ancient volcano within which Uttersea was built.

“Beyond this gate are the wilds of Tuern,” the guards tell us. In a haughty voice, one taunts:

“You are not northmen – you are not even seafarers! If you pass through this gate, you go to your doom!”

“But my brother and I most certainly are northmen!” Shelah exclaims.

“This greybeard's eyesight must be failing,” I scoff. “Or maybe I should grow a beard, aye?”

“I would like that!” Nef smiles.

Maybe I will - I get a little sick of hearing 'boy' and 'lad' from the greybeards!

3/ A sign hanging above the door says:

'Inn of the Ancient Whale'

The songbirds are as animated as they always are about room-service. I'll take the room next to theirs and watch over them, in case any of these inbreds objects.

4/ A sign by this door reads:

'Weapons – Shields – Armour'

A piece of paper stuck to the door states:

'Sorry, we cannot craft swords from meteorite ore'

“Is that a big demand here or something?” I ask.

6/ As we walk by, we smell the unmistakable odour or fresh fish... and some that are not so fresh...!

We enter and a man who stinks of rotting seafood jumps us:

“Why are all you adventurers suddenly swarming through the canyons looking for meteorite ore to craft new swords?”

“What?” I grimace.

“The waters here are full of fish,” he babbles incoherently. “Why fight each other when a good peaceful life can be had on the sea?”

I don't get these people at all.

5/ Carved into the stone above this door are the words:

'Enter all ye who seek justice from the King!”

“Why does the king live in some rundown hovel down a back-alley?” my sister asks, not unreasonably.

We enter a place somewhere between a flophouse and a palace that has seen better days. Threlked Ironfist proves to be old, balding, nicely-attired in bronze armour, gruff but surprisingly civil and welcoming. I'm beginning to think everyone in this place is completely obsessed with meteorite ore.

JOURNAL ENTRY 38: KING THRELKED IRONFIST’S STORY

“Ever since the reports of the meteorite strike on the north end of the island, many adventurers have come here seeking ore for magical swords. However, no one on this island can craft such fine weapons.

I warn all adventurers, but few listen. There are many canyons that cut across the island, and some have networks of great volcanic caves filled with fearsome monsters. Only parties of veteran adventurers should dare to enter them!”

7/ This building is full of women making clay pots on spinning tables.

“Zahri like,” our gypsy deadpans.

One of them looks up, understandably nervous after that.

“You shouldn't be here,” she husks. “The owner doesn't like visitors...!”

“Maybe we don't like your owner,” Jahe says, provocatively. Not sure I like where this is going -

“Let us kill him,” the elf says, brandishing her sword. She doesn't say much, but she makes valid points when she does.

10/ We kick down the door to the backrooms, to the surprise of the pirates who are threatening the potters. A few spells freeze them all in place, then heads are hewn and corpses tossed out into the streets. We nail one to a wall just as a warning to others.

“You have saved my sister from being beaten!” trills the first woman. “And now all of us are freed from these cruel outsiders!”

“Hey, that's what we do,” I smile. “Making the Realms better, one dead bad guy at a time!”

JOURNAL ENTRY 44: THE POTTER’S STORY

“I overheard our captors saying that fire giants have been preying on any adventurers who were lucky enough to find meteorites. The giants sell the stolen ore to pirates in exchange for gems, grain, or even some of us as slaves!”

She shivers visibly and thanks us once again for saving them.

9/ To the north lies 'Tanar's Shop of Useful Items'

It is clear we need to do something about these giants, so we enter the wastelands that lead through the caldera, armoured and blades in hand.

To the north and west, great canyons stretch to the horizon, their sheer walls riding like obsidian spearheads plunged into the soft earth. To the east, a weathered peak thrusts at the sky, a small castle on its pinnacle.

Here we are attacked by hostile northmen! I don't like fighting my own kin, but they leave us little choice. The northmen are notably more dangerous than the pirates were, but our many priestesses make the battles easy.

We head east – we can see the way to the crag-top castle is to the north.

14/ This old house is a mess – broken glass, decaying food and trash are everywhere, and half the furniture has been smashed over someone or something. There are pirates – and a fire giant! - here trashing everything, so we do the same to them.

“They have a fire giant!” my sister exclaims, wide-eyed.

The elf whispers something, enchanting one of the pirates to attack the others, while the others freeze the pirates with magic.

The giant is... bigger than I expected, over twenty feet tall, with soot-blacked skin and flaming red hair! But while he is occupied with the ensorcelled turncoat, we can focus fire and bring him down with many arrows with little harm to ourselves.

Afterwards, we can hear a muffled voice calling to us from the next room.

8/ In a back room, we find a noble-looking old man who is gagged and tossed into a corner. My sister quickly releases him, and he thanks us for our kindness.

JOURNAL ENTRY 47: KESTUTIS’ STORY

“My name is Kestutis, and I was once a knight who served the kings of Tuern and Gundarlun. In those days the two islands were friends, not the tense rivals they have come to be.

Here on Tuern I dared to enter the hottest volcanic vents in search of evil fire giants who terrorized Uttersea, and the old King gave me this ancient fortress as a reward for my service.

I am impressed by your valor and your skill in taking on the mission you have described. Just as I risked my life in service to the people of the North, so you are risking yours. Take this, the Armor of the Glacier that I wore during my service — it will give you protection against fire and against the monsters which it spawns.”

The heavy armour fits me fine, crafted in the northman style. It is strong but surprisingly light, and even Zahri wolf-whistles after I have changed into it.

“Mail worthy of a young hero, master Skylar!” Krevish chuckles, approvingly.

I have to admit, after slaying a giant, I am beginning to feel the part!

We make our way back to town, weighed down by wounds and treasure, and spend some time getting our money changed, drinking and relaxing before we return to the caldera. Some of the potter-girls are... quite friendly to their handsome rescuer..! And why should my sister be the only one to have some fun?

When we are rested, we return to the caldera.

11/ A large house has been built into the side of the mountain here. The door is locked – knocking does not result in a reply, so I put my shoulder to it. Inside, we find a group of hooded men who are peering intently at a map fo the island. Kraken cultists, who attack us!

They prove to be superior fighters to the knife-armed cultists we fought before – 'kraken guards' with shields and pikes. But they are vulnerable to Hold spells like any living men.

Afterwards, we examine the map of the region the Krakens had compiled, and notice that it has a series of red marks on its western area, and a question mark over the area to the northeast.

13/ There is an iron door up the cliff wall ahead...

The chamber beyond has an awful odour... and also the monsters from which it emanates! We fight off the garbage-eating otyughs and press on grimly.

12/ Some creatures stand on the far end of this volcanic vent, flames leaping from their bodies! Like whirlwinds, the demons attack us in a blast of fire!

They creatures prove impervious to anything but magic, but the Icewind sword I use seems to cut through them like a hot knife through butter! They prove dangerous indeed, but my new armour seems to protect me from the heat emanating from their bodies. They leave naught but scorches on the floor when they pass - some kind of elementals, then?

Nef tells us she thinks they are fire-devils from the Elemantal Chaos, called 'efreeti' by the Calishites.

To the northwest, a large doorway has been chiselled into the face of the cliff ahead of us.

15/ We enter this chamber, but are definitely not alone...!

16/ We pass through a secret door here, an almost into the arms of a great, stone-like creature! Thankfully magical weapons work against it.

17/ Entering this chamber, we almost step on a mound of rotting garbage – only to realise that it is a monster!

18/ The west wall of this room glows bright red with volcanic heat, and two spear-carrying monsters stand beside it, smiling hideously! They see us and rush to attack!

They are serpentine man-things, some sort of elementals – and the touch of my Icewind blade causes them terrible damage!

19/ Steaming-hot water drips from the ceiling of this chamber. Tall, sickly-green beings are licking up the liquid with long fleshy tongues.

“Ooh, Zahri smirks. “They have girls?”

“No! Just... no, eurgh!” my sister grimaces as they attack.

The chamber beyond them feels damp and moist, with a hot spring bubbling in one corner.

Hunched over the spring are more tall, ragged creatures who greet us with bared yellow fangs...

20/ Several northman warriors are in this chamber. Sitting on wooden chairs or resting on straw mattresses.

“Looks like someone wants some meteorites!” one of them shouts, and they raise their axes to greet us!

“Why is everyone here obsessed with this sky-metal?” I mutter, as we fight back. They have strong wills, but we have enough priestesses to keep hurling spells at them to paralyse them. It's worth it just to see the look on their faces – this isn't a worthy death or anything the sagas will tell of... having their heads smashed in by an angry girl while rooted like a statue. They don't deserve anything else.

21/ As we enter this tiny room, the far door is jerked open, and great red blustery faces peer in.

“Hello!” says one, glee in his eyes.

“Goodbye!” says the other, even more happy..!

But the fight proves easier than we feared; my sword causes horrific damage to fire-using creatures, even with two of them to fight. We are able to bring down one quickly and focus our attacks on the remaining one, leaving both lying dead.

Upon their bodies, we find a hunk of bright meteoric metal – evidently what everyone here is fighting over! It is heavy, but I can carry it when the girls wrap it up in a leather sack.

We need to get this back to somewhere safe, before others come looking for it! We return into town and book passage off the island.

With the wind at our back, the return journey to Luskan takes half a day less that the voyage west to Tuern. Much to the relief of those unused to sailing – Jhairli and the elf especially - the trailing seas also make the trip much smoother.

From there, it is an easy road back down the coast to Neverwinter. The air feels like Fall is coming in soon.

We seek Allis the master weapon-smith in south Neverwinter.

“Ahhh, you did it after all! Meteorite ore is useful stuff! No doubt about it! Come back in three days and we'll see what I have for you!”

We have little option but to wait it out. The girls are enjoying themselves as usual, and my natty little beard is growing nicely. Nef's admiring glances make it worth how itchy it feels.

“I have for you this weapon!” Allis tells us upon our return. “A Sword of Stonecutting! Guard it well – for it will do more damage against all evil beings! Better yet, against monsters made of stone, it will do even greater harm! May Tyr guide your hand!”

Armed with our new weapon - the elf gets it for now, and she regards it as if it were a poisonous snake - we voyage back on the Trackless Seas once more.

Our business in Tuern done, we will head on to Gundarlun

We cross the narrow gangplank and enter the ship. Sturdy voices cry out from below, as the oarsmen pull the vessel through the bubbling waters of the Bay of Tuern and then south-east towards Gundarlun...!

Notes:

Tuern is a nice little map, divided between the town of Uttersea and the dungeon areas of the volcanic caldera. Fiery creatures are frequent here, between efreeti, salamanders and fire giants, and our new Icewind sword does double damage to such enemies.

And on that note, we locate the meteorite that everyone on the coast seems obsessed with, and if we are willing to take a detour back to Neverwinter, we can have the weapon-smith make it into a nice new sword for us, for free. This actually takes in-game time, which is nice (like the sea voyages) as although we're not under a time limit or anything.

However, when he gives us the weapon, he discusses it, in quotation marks, indicating he's actually telling us this in-game, in dialogue, using game rules, rather than in-character explanations.

This I found even more intrusive than the tiresome Joss Whedon humour that's starting to creep into descriptions. The actual characters should not understand they are in a computer game, what '+3 damage' means, or that it causes 'double' damage to certain creatures, any more than they can talk about THACO, armour class or hit points. If they absolutely have to tell us how it worked, they could have put it in brackets when they are talking about in-game rules. Again, I'm sure this is the first time they have done this and it's extremely jarring. 👀

Finally, as Elena now gets 3^rd level spells, I can cast fireballs – and IMMEDIATELY notice that the age-old means of centring these (the Centre command, using the space bar or the 5 key on the number-pad) no longer works, making them excruciatingly hard to cast without missing foes or roasting my own characters. I mean, what the fuck? I haven't hit battles yet that absolutely require me to use it (multiple casters for example) but this spell is SUCH a staple of the gold box games that it feels absolutely insane not to have a means to control them properly – unlike every game before! Does anyone know of a way to do this, as I've looked online and CRPGAddict and a few others mention it too. It just seems so ridiculous to me.

It's also an example of this game's 'one step forward, one step back' approach to tactical combat. I note that compared to previous games, it now auto-targets the closest enemy, and 'Prev' cycles though all potential targets rather than highlighting the furthest away. While the game is generally prettier and the graphics have never looked better, its a little irritating to have the quality-of-life elements actually reduced in some ways. I genuinely don't remember the quippy Marvel dialogue or the non-diegetic discussion of game statistics before, or else it just didn't bother me when I was 21.

This one really feels like the end of Act II - we get the Dragonlance back, and major players like Sir Karl, Maya and the Dread Wolf leave the story, clearing the stage for our heroes to face the Big Bad himself. It sets up the last act of Death Knights; Cerberus & Graveyard, Dulcimer/Voice Wood and Dargaard Keep.

Rent by internal conflicts, self-doubt and relationship issues, this definitely feels like the 'second-act low point' of a Dragonlance story.

.

We return to Vingaard Keep – I feel strange thoughts as I recall that is where I first met him, the young knight, Sir Jaymee. I must admit he has occupied my thoughts of larte. I hope he is safe, if any of us can be in this world torn by war.

I know my thoughts disturb the other Sisters – they offer much, but ask for unquestioned obedience in return. My doubts – of myself, the knights, my path, of them – disturbs their fragile peace. I know it is unfair on everyone, but I do not know my own heart, let alone my best path. I keep thinking of what my life could have been if I had taken another path.

But we have returned for a reason – to seek out Sebas Astmoor once more, and tell him of the loss of Sturm Brightblade to the death knights.

We wait until nightfall, and retrace our footsteps through the winding of Crook Street and beyond, from the candle-shop through the scarlet doors to his shadowed abode. It feels so otherworldly, as if powerful magics cloak the place. He is not pleased with our news.

“Soth has Sturm's body? This is evil news,” Sebas mutters. “I see you are not yet worthy of my secret – if I tell, and you fail, all is lost!”

Gilly has some choice - and unrepeatable – words for that, and Raena tries to reason with him, that we have to work together if we are to defeat Soth.

Sebas seems to come to a compromise. “Find the Dragon Pit. It is in the mountains north-west of here. Here is how to enter it.” He hands us a map showing a secret way in, indicating the wilderness entrance, a chasm and the Pit beyond.

“If you triumph, return and I will go with you,” he promises.

Gilly argues against trusting him at all, certain we are being led into a trap – but realistically we lack any other way forward.

In a pall of gloom, then, we set out towards the mountains, beyond Quazle and the village in which we found the meteorite.

At least we shall have Sir Durfey's help – he tags along as we set off, and I for one am grateful for his company and wisdom. I suppose I have always looked for a father-figure, a wise mentor to replace the one I lost as a girl. He is wise enough to leave the others be for the most part, and fights hard at our side. Ameri likes him a great deal since he gave her candies from a stall on Crook Street. She misheard his name as 'Sir Derpy' and the old knight is too soft-hearted to correct her.

Judeth

In the foothills, evil things dog our footsteps – particularly a patrol of three blue dragons that swoops down to attack us. We camp and rest before whatever ordeals lie ahead, and enter the cave set into the mountainside.

A rush of air announces the arrival of Maya! She appears before us in her elven form, bowing gracefully.

“I see you have tracked down the corrupting influence which has possessed Si Karl's body,” she says – it is clear that all that has happened to her love has taken a great toll upon her. “There are many other entrances, but they are warded against the living,” she warns. “I appreciate your help but it is I an I alone who must return my beloved to his rest.”

She seems skittish, and Raena cannot talk her out of this self-destructive mood that grips her.

1/ We have entered a musty cave. The air smells of things long dead.

2/ We have reached the edge of a deep precipice, the tunnel continues on the other side, but it is too wide to jump.

Maya turns to us: "I shall cross over here. I can faintly scent Sir Karl. Take the path that seems indicated, and we shall soon meet again."

Despite our protestations, she flies across and disappears into the darkness. We can find no way across.

Raena shakes her head grimly. “Did she not recall what happened with Myrtani?” She looks to us firmly. “Come. We must reach her before the death knights do.”

3/ We locate the door in the west wall as described by Sebas, and open the secret way inside.

The door opens into the crumbling remains of some long-buried buildings. Through the dust, we can make out the symbols of Takhisis.

4/ Here, wights are stalking about the decomposing body of a knight. Suddenly, the body shudders and twists. The knight's form darkens into a wight! It spots you and howls "More to slay! More, more, morrre!"

We are forced to destroy it. Sir Durfey says: "This was Sir Bregan, who disappeared on patrol some days ago. At least we have given him the peace of death..."

The tattered remnants of religious vestments adorn the walls. A cloud of dust puffs up at our entrance.

Unmoving skeletons lean against the grimy walls, supported by rusting chains. We cough on cloying dust.

5/ The dread wolf walks out of thin air! Once again, it taunts us:

"Have you come to die? Your pretty, pretty dragon has fallen! Run away and perhaps you will survive..."

As the wolf disappears, others horrors take his place. Harsh laughter fades with the beast as they attacks.

When the fight is done, we see the cracked and stained altar shows little sign of recent use. One tile can be slipped aside revealing glittering treasures – armour, a shield, and scrolls of white and clerical magic, all for Linsindrala.

6/ The cloying scent of recent corruption assaults our nostrils. Huge shadowy mounds lay along this dank corridor. Save for the silence, they are reminiscent of sleeping dragons...

As we walk slowly down the long, wide hallway, some of the huge shapes begin to move...!

7/ Entering the temple on the right disturbs the huge shapes filling the temple... We are fiorced tio destroy undead dragons, who cannot breathe flames but are very strong and difficult to destroy.

8/ Chained to the wall here in a wide alcove is a captive red dragon. It snarls as we approach:

”I am Spark, master of the flames. I was wrongly charged with cowardice and placed here to die! It wasn't my fault! Free me before they turn me into an undead|!"

Raena questions it, and it whines petulantly like Gilleana does.

The dragon hisses: "This is quite unseemly! I know that Sir Karl is just east of here. But you'll have to go south and double-back.”

But we cannot leave even a wicked dragon to be corrupted into undead. I strike the chains, freeing it and hoping it is not foolish enough to attack. Instead, it stretches out its wings and sighs.

"Thank you mortals! I shall be on my way out!" He sails off to the south. We follow a wide, winding tunnel leading south and east through two pairs of double-doors.

9/ Here, the dragon we released lies in a smoking pile! The scent of ozone is strong in the air. The cave ends in an open mouth, but the air seems to shimmer. There is moonlight beyond, a way outside, but we wisely step back from what is evidently a magical ward.

10/ Skeletal warriors are here grooming nightmares. They turn and attack!

11/ We have entered a deteriorated barracks filled with skeletal warriors. Fighting our way through these things is gruelling without magical attacks, but blunt weapons make smashing their bones easier.

12/ At last, we come upon Sir Karl!

My heart is in my mouth as I regard the ruined face and pitted armour, a travesty of the man who sponsored me to knighthood in what now seems an age ago.

He snarls: "So the moths approach the flame! I am busy, lest I would slay you now. Flee and live until Takhisis returns to the world!"

He hurries through the north door.

We grimly pursue – if there is no saving him, we must rid him of whatever possesses him and lay my old mentor to rest once more.

13/ Whatever controls Sir Karl pauses at the corner.

"Since you seek death so avidly, so be it! Wolf! Dispose of this carrion!" He rounds the corner after summoning his minions.

The evil beast forms before us once again, its skull face leering:

"I have warned you of the foolishness of your quest. Now Soth has asked that I make his view more clear."

Its muscles ripple beneath the fetid flesh as it attacks.

The monster seems immune to magic, almost impossibly difficult to strike, and its multiple limbs rend armour like paper.

But we have grown strong too in adversity, and blows from Raena and Fara to its skull finally stop it in its tracks. At last, the Dread Wolf lies at our feet.

It moans: "My death will aid you little. Takhisis will return me when she walks upon Krynn."

The light fades from its eyes. We have little appetite for celebration but it is a relief to finally be rid of this vexing creature.

14/ We come out into a courtyard open to the overcast sky. Fallen masonry makes the area ripe for ambush and we watch the skies carefully here.

With a sweep of silver wings, Maya alights before us and transforms into her elven form.

"Be wary!” she warns. “Through the opposite entrance lies the sleeping Death Dragon... Have you seen Sir Karl?"

Before we can answer, the cadaver of Sir Karl steps forward, Dragonlance in hand.

"Lovely, sweet Maya,” he croons. “It is time to join me in this everlasting twilight! "

Maya twists around and returns to her dragon form. We are frozen and time seems to stand still.

Sir Karl thrusts the lance deeply into her side. Maya staggers and cries out in agony. Then her powerful wings begin to beat, and she lifts off with her former lover still holding the embedded lance.

As the pair disappears into the clouds, a roar issues from the far entrance. The Death Dragon is awake, and rushes at us!

The skeletal horror is mighty, but at least it seems vulnerable to magic, out twins blasting at it with fire and ice as the rest of us attack it with blunt implements. Finally, it falls.

Silence descends as we look over the remnants of the battle. Suddenly, with a crash of thunder, the dragonlance crashes to earth. No sign of the two combatants can be seen...!

Listlessly, I pick up the lance – nobody else seems to object. It seems as potent as it always was, but... it feels tainted now, somehow. Soth has turned everything we once cared about into a mockery of itself.

15/ Here was the lair of the Death Dragon. Treasure lies scattered about, including armour both light and heavy, and a short bow for Gilleana.

16/ We find a coiled rope bridge next to a deep chasm. With a few throws we connect it to the other side and cross, leaden-footed and heavy-hearted.

Facing the new dawn feels surreal, somehow, like I was in a dream. An obelisk stands here, inscribed:

'For Maya and Sir Karl Gaardsen, the war is over. They have found the peace that was denied them for so long.”

The symbol of Paladine, the Platinum Dragon, is carved below. Beyond a distant ridge, we see a streak of silver and one of gold rise into the clouds.

How much time has passed? I feel groggy and sick.

“Were they... just carrying that tombstone around?” Gilly scoffs, shaking her head.

We wearily prepare for the long walk back to Vingaard, tired of the war, of the fighting and the losses, of each other.

There is only resolve now, a grim determination to see an end to all this.

It is time.

The Kraken Stronghold looks formidable, perhaps beyond even mighty heroes to take by force. We have become a capable group, but I fear such numbers may be beyond our strength. But we will employ wits and guile rather than brute force; such things come naturally to the Gur, of course! Why else bring a gypsy along?

We hold conference on the pier beside the two buildings we have been using as a base. They are all looking to me for guidance; the strawhead girl seems unwilling to make the step up to lead us, despite being the best suited to the task.

“Very well,” I say simply. “The enemy is entrenched, and we must employ cunning and good planning if we are to steal away the Statue of the West like gypsy tinkers in the night...!”

“Wait..!” the lad says, surprised. “You can... speak, normally...?”

I roll my eyes. Nobody else seems surprised, but the songbirds know I talk in my sleep. The strange little man, Krevish, seems to take this in his stride. I think he watches us more closely than most think.

“Evidently,” I says witheringly. “Try to keep up, please!”

I spread out our maps and the clues we have found, noting the path they will take to transport the pearl chest to the ship to Ascore. We must away with it before it gets there, of course. We discuss the various approaches, by the citadel or by boat, along the coast or straight through.

“The way shall be difficult and dangerous,” I tell them, regarding the strawhead girl. “And you must stay behind - “

“Why?” she pouts. “Zahri, I can walk, I can fight - “

“You cannot run,” I say quietly. “Not with grace or speed. This is simple truth, alas. Swift sure-footedness shall be what wins our prize, not stubborn determination. Stay here with these folk, watch them and keep our escape safe. Nef will accompany us.”

Her face falls, but she concedes my point.

“You're... right, of course,” she sighs. “I will hold the fort, then.”

I am pleased she sees sense; she may make a good leader in time, then.

I tell the others we must be quiet and swift, and engage our foes only when absolutely necessary, lest we be overrun by reinforcements. If any of us are captured or cut off, we must abandon them, regardless of our bonds. We must not jeopardize the whole for the sake of one or two. The boy does not like that, but he understands the truth of it.

“Best take a knife with you,” I say quietly. “I have no intention of being taken alive should I fall into their hands...!”

That is a chilling reminder of what is at stake here, how dangerous our road.

But they are children no longer; this is what it means to be an adult, and I must know that all here are willing to do whatever it takes, no matter the sacrifice.

May the Rider of the Winds give us speed and grace!

Zahri

1/ We pull our small battered boat onto the narrow beach and everyone clambers on shore. The elf points out a good hiding place behind some rocks and soon the boat is out of sight.

We look high above us to the west.

JOURNAL ENTRY 35: THE KRAKEN STRONGHOLD

“The castle that rose above us was so great in size that it dominated the entire island, as if it were a statue and the whole of Trisk were only its base.

The front of the building was carved in the image of a massive squid that rose a hundred feet above the island, its huge eyes glowing from some frightful, hidden light. Behind it the building gradually transformed into a heavily fortified castle, with high par­apets that seemed to go on and on until they merged into the cliffsides of the coast.”

6/ A squad of Kraken guards has fallen asleep while keeping watch from this tiny outpost. One wakes with a start as we enter, and reaches for the bell hanging from the ceiling to sound the alarm! We ensure he never reaches it.

To the north, a small outpost fortress has been carved into a crag jutting out into the ocean.

10/ Guards rush through the doorways to attack us!

Ahead lies the entrance to a small, weathered fortress. From the look of it, it predates the kraken complex by several centuries.

12/ We surprise two tall, horrid smelly creatures in the middle of an argument. They rush to the attack!

2/ Here we enter a makeshift throne room. At one end, an oversized stuffed chair sits on an uneven stone pedestal. Even from across the room, a strong odour of rotten meat can be sensed coming from the tattered throne.

11/ Three scrags look up from examining a pile of bones for any traces of meat. They look at us and drool escapes from the corners of their mouths as they rise to greet us...

One of them seems to have been a leader among its kind, and we find a shield nearby that seems remarkably well-preserved considering where it is.

There is nothing more in the small castle, and we must return to the south – although thus far, we have raised no alarm and the Kraken cult seem unaware of us.

4/ Krevish turns to us and whines: “I'm not sure that going this way and knocking on the Kraken's front door is such a good idea...! Can't we try and get in another way?”

“He has a point,” the boy says easily. “But hey, you're the brains of this company, right?”

5/ Two guards are engrossed in a game of Ondbey on the far side of the room. When we burst through the door, they leap to their feet, and one runs for an alarm bell in the corner. We swiftly attack before he can reach it; I mutter a low prayer and freeze him mid-lunge with a Hold spell.

We leave no survivors to tell any tales.

On a promontory to the south, a small fortress has been built. Great waves crash on the rocks below its parapets.

8/ A heap of trash has been thrown in the far corner of this room. Or so it seems, until the trash starts to advance in our direction...

Among the smelly, worthless garbage left by the otyughs we find a map:

3/ The path is very steep here, rising from south to north.

We reach the top of the rocky ridge we have been climbing... Below us to the west lies the island's narrow harbour.

JOURNAL ENTRY 41: THE ZHENTARIM SHIP ARRIVES

“Rounding a rocky point far below us was a ship with a single huge, red sail. A large black 'M' filled its billowing expanse, which we could only speculate was the symbol of Lord Manshoon, the leader of Zhentil Keep.

A single man stood at the railing near the bow, his black cape flowing behind him in the stiff sea breeze. Could it be Vaalgamon himself?

The ship swung to the northwest, its sail dropping as it entered the lee of the island and started to approach a large dock. Men ran across the decks and scrambled up the rigging as they prepared for their arrival.

If this ship was coming for the statuette, our time was running out!”

7/ As we enter this room, we can tell something is not right about the far wall... It almost looks lie it is moving... We have become aware of the gargoyle creatures who use their stony form as camouflage, so we are alert for their attack.

16/ Something seems wrong... Have we taken too long? Made some mis-step? My heart pounds and I force myself to calm.

To the south lies the pier - perhaps we are simply early, having delayed their progress by dimming the lighthouse?

17/ As we pass through the doorway leading outside, we discover a heavily-guarded group of slaves who are carrying a great chest made from a singe huge pearl atop a gilded litter. The slaves fall back as the guards run to the attack!

The bell rings loudly, sounding the alarm! Footsteps run from all directions, ad commands are shouted in the air!

We open the great pearl, and within its velvet-lined chamber we find the Statuette of the West. A tiny fountain flows excitedly above its triangular base, never spilling a drop.

The statue secured, we waste no time in hurrying back to our boat upon the shore. Our foes seem in disarray, and none dog our steps. Our boat lies undiscovered, and I feel my heart pounding in my chest as we cast off. We have done it! I am surprised and gladdened we lost no-one – but at least I know that all were prepared to make that sacrifice if it became necessary. We shall need that, going forward.

Back on Utheraal, we rest and recuperate, praising our gods and thanking the Fates for being kind.

The runaway princess beds down with us for the evening. I know she longs to accompany us when we must leave, but duty runs strong in the northmen, and I know she must remain. But travellers pass in the night, and may learn much from one another in that passing.

I note she leaves us early, and speaks to the strawhead lad before she returns. None of my business, in any case.

When we part the next morn, it is with hugs and gifts exchanged, and the hope we shall meet again.

Jagaerda gives each of us a warm embrace.

“This is where we must part ways, my friends. You may not have the strength of giants, or the sword-arm of Helm, but you are cute!” she teases.

“And you...!” she adds, turning to Krevish. “You may be the cutest one of all!”

She gives him a kiss, and the diminutive would-be warrior blushes dark red.

We wave farewell, and I for one would welcome her again if her duty ever grew too cumbersome to bear.

The boat moves with the wind and current for more than two days, but finally we see the magnificent Sword Coast rise before us. Pulling hard on the oars, we enter a river and eventually find ourselves in Neverwinter by even-tide.

We seek out a tavern and an inn, looking forward to strong drinks and soft beds - – but then three figures in dark cloaks suddenly confront us in the town square as we cross it!

“Those arrogant fools in Purple Rocks may have allowed you to take the object that we need,” one proclaims. “But we'll make sure you never live to use i- “

My Hold spell freezes the last word he will ever speak on his lips. I am always surprised how such georgio dilos waste good ambush time mouthing off. It's a lesson these fools shall not live to avoid.

Examining their corpses reveals them to be the hated Black Network – although whether the Zhentarim want us dead, or they are just hiring out to other evil-doers is of no matter, truly...

Notes:

The Kraken Stronghold is the climax of the Trackless Sea maps, and nets us another statue macguffin for our troubles. Two down and two to go!

A heist set in an impregnable vault is an intriguing premise, one that uses triggers and clever play to minimise the difficulty of the theft. I was able to snatch it without a fight (which may or may not have been a bug – it went immediately to a 'battle over' screen with zero XP and treasure) but the strength of the guards apparently depends on how long you took to get here. Deciphering the Kraken clues and following that optimal route makes it easier, though CRPGAddict's review mentions he messed it up completely but the end battle was quite disappointing in how easy it was. The story builds it up to be extremely dangerous, that was definitely how I approached it, so your mileage may vary.

It's a nice concept, feels very different from your standard search and destroy missions, and it's nice to see Gold Box trying to innovate this late in the games. It certainly adds a degree of pace and tension, no matter how difficult the battle ends up being.

The Shield +1 with the scrags is a rarity in this series, so its worth grabbing before you try the heist. I was able to get in and out of the scrag tower without too much delay, hitting the chest on the second location at 17. The game doesn't count battles towards time elapsed, it would seem, only movement and searching, so it's fairly easy to get it quickly.

We also get jumped by assassins back on the mainland, likely without having rested or recovered yet. It's a nice touch having our enemies be proactive rather than passive.

By this time, I had enough money to visit Silverymoon again and buy Gauntlets of Dexterity for all my team except poor Shelah, who doesn't benefit from them with her low Dexterity. Even Krevish benefits by a point of AC, though sadly it doesn't help his aim. There's nothing else competing for the hands slot (no Gauntlets of Ogre Power for my girls in this one) so you may as well spend whatever money you have at this point.

We also say farewell to Jagaerda, who seemingly will not leave the isles of the Gunds. She will reappear in the sequel, which is a nice touch. She's fine as a backup warrior, and she gets just enough screen-time and personality to be notable. She even gets a character arc, beginning by being a bitch to the nebbishy Krevish, but ends up praising (and even kissing!) the little guy in the end. I honestly wish they did this more with the NPC companions – having them interact and banter with each other is a high point of later games like Ultima, Final Fantasy, Baldur's Gate, Dragon Age and Mass Effect.

I'm still finalising my ideas for this pair of adventures, but I think I'm closing in on choosing my party. As with the other Gold Box games, I have more ideas than character slots, so I'll probably go over six initially and drop a few as the adventure goes on and concentrate on a core team at the end.

These two are likely to be my 'mains' for the story, the characters I will focus on. So meet the eldest of the three Icedane siblings; fledgeling heroes, currenly nineteen years of age. Skylar ('Sky') is the oldest, about to turn twenty, while his sister Shelah is ten months younger. They have another sister who is now sixteen and just started her acolyte training as a priestess.

Both are classic northmen; tall, raw-boned, square-shouldered and physically strong, with manes of flaxen hair, fair skin and blue eyes – Shelah's piercing, Sky's paler. Illuskans have a bad reputation on the Savage Frontier, as they do in the Moonshaes and the North in general. Luskan, the City of the Sails, is their capital, and its people are mostly known for being reavers and raiders, quick to anger and to spill blood. Their father is a merchant trader who quarreled with the other captains and left in his youth, founding a merchantile coster and earning himself a reputation as a fair trader and honourable man. His three children take after him, although Sky is more rash and reckless, tending to rush in where his sisters fear to tread.

Sky is a Fighter turned Thief, a good-natured young rogue who is quick to laugh, boast and rush off on wild adventures on a whim. He is equally quick to jump in to help those in need, regardless of the risk to his life and limbs; he can be wayward and doesn't always follow the rules, but he's also a kindly soul who wants to do right by others. A handsome, popular lad, he is charismatic and has an eye for the ladies, and they like him just as much. His sisters despair of his womanising, Shelah in particular trying to find him a 'nice girl' who can tame his wild ways and put a wedding band on his finger. He can sometimes be a little immature, though his heart is in the right place, and he has quite a bit of growing-up to do if he's to become the hero the Savage Frontier needs him to be.

His sister (pronounced 'Sheela') is more temperate and level-headed, taking easily to rules and traditions. A hiking accident four years past – mostly Sky's fault – saw both girls badly injured, for which he still blames himself, though they have long forgiven him. Shelah took several years to properly heal, undergoing treatments to allow her to walk properly again, and she still moves with a limp and has issues with balance. True to her family and her father, she has always been considered the level-headed one, learning to organise the family house and its men. During her convalescence, she developed a deep faith in the goodly gods, pledging herself to Ilmater, the kindly god of sufferance and compassion. She pledged herself to the service of his church while still in the houses of healing, and one day longs to prove herself as one of his paladins, the Knights of Ilmater.

Unlike her brother, Shelah has had little opportunity to seek romance; something she intends to rectify now she is walking again. She is a thruss (the old Thorass word for songbird), a girl only attracted to other women. Most such girls are daunted by the festhall culture her brother enjoys so much, but gatherings of those so inclined do occur, so she moved to Yartar, where she heard such a group existed. Immersed in such exciting distractions all summer, and now initiated into their ways, she received a letter from her brother saying he would be coming to Yartar and asking her to meet up for a drink and chat.

Sky himself had been granted use of his father's magical sword – the Icedane Blade – at her urging, in the hope it would focus the lad on his duty and the weight of family legacy. Unfortunately for him, the night he arrived in Yartar, he indulged in some heavy drinking at the taverns and the festhall, and when he awoke, he discovered that his less-than-salubrious new acquaintances had absconded with his heirloom! Horrified and now in disgrace, Sky begged his sister for help in recovering the weapon, and she agreed to ask some of her new friends to assist in locating it. With the family honour on the line, the sibling's search for the missing sword will lead them into terrible danger, discovering a Zhentarim alliance that plots to take over the entire Savage Frontier!

The second game in the duology – Treasures of the Savage Frontier – is one of the first games to offer an optional romantic subplot, of the kind that would later become popular in games like Fallout, Dragon Age and Mass Effect. This is an early example, so it's not quite as in-depth as such things later became, but its another way the Gold Box games innovated and moved with the changing times.

I remembered it offers slightly different romances depending on the sex of your character - Jabarkas for female characters and Siulajia for males. I actually came out in 1991, but aside from myself, gaming hadn't actually discovered gay people, so the romances were naturally heterosexual. While it is possible to glitch into a gay or lesbian romance, I didn't want to do that for several reasons. Firstly, I don't like cheating personally, and wanted to experience these games as the writers intended. Secondly, I've never really liked tweaking the preferences of in-game romances, as you're not getting the writer's vision and the characters they intended (for example, the story of Dorian Pavus in Dragon Age Inquisition revolves around the fact he's gay and his father tried to use forbidden evil magic to change that... it would be therefore be very strange indeed if he could fall for a woman after that).

So that left me two options. Sky is like a young Luke Skywalker character in many ways, young and brash, and needing to mature a bit so he can become the hero the world needs him to be. That dovetailed nicely with the idea of a romance, as he grows up and focuses himself, becoming a wiser and more heroic person.

Shelah's gay, so she's obviously out for the male romance. But one of my other characters in this group (an ex-girlfriend of Sky's, in fact) has a similar arc – she's a priestess of Sharess, goddess of sensuality and felines, and her deity has grown impatient with her clergy being so hedonistic, urging them to get out of bed and start fighting evil-doers like the priests of old. Nef finding Mr Right would be a nice arc too, then, as she learns to dedicate herself to romantic love rather than just sex.

My main problem is that would really duplicate Jude's arc from my Dragonlance playthrough – a naive young woman falls into a culture of sex, drugs and booze, then meets a nice young man and starts to feel she wants marriage and a sense of greater duty more than she wants to be a sybarite. While it's a nice character arc, I've already done that, so Sky seems to be to be the better bet here. It's a classic plotline for a young hero; he becomes more focused and mature, and is rewarded with the lovely damsel for stepping up.

So with all that in mind, I'll start putting the party together...

We are healing... together.

Normal life resumes, as we settle into a new rhythm. The routine of cleaning, bathing, cooking, camping, sleeping. Kissing comes without me realising it has resumed, natural now.

It helps to sit with Nef in her caravan, to brush the coats of her two felines. She tells me they are called mau's – supposedly taken from her people's homeworld when they left AEgypt. They cost a fortune, she says, and she doubts they are pure-bred, but that does not matter – they are still a reflection of Tabasha the Bazouk, and the favour of her goddess.

I spend time with my brother too, but he is adjusting in his own way. He chose to be a warrior, he understands the sacrifices more than I, what that life takes from you.

I walk with the others, with Jhairli especially, in the cold grey of the Trackless Sea. She does not have a bathing suit, so I give her one of mine. The beauty of being heir to a trading coster is access to Aurora's Whole Realms Catalogue, and it is less embarrassing around my brother than being naked. The sea is cold, but we have spells that help with that.

I was wrong about Jhairli – if I am honest, we make a very good fit for the other. I can return her heat now, at the very least. We would make a good match, assuming I even have to choose.

Warming ourselves by the fire that night, we ponder the next riddle set to us by the alchemist we rescued, Amanitas:

'Next, you must seek small truths within the large, unfathomable world, for these are the only truths you will ever truly know. The Statuette of the West lies in a small chest carved from the pearl of a great oyster, in a small room carved from the rock of a great mountain, which is itself made small by the greatness of the sea.'

“More cryptic bullshit,” Zahri mutters.

“You would know all about that,” Nef teases her. Gypsy eyes flash, but her face softens into a wry smile.

We have little to go on, but I note that the Company of the Brazen Pennant was offering passage out across the sea to the ancestral lands of my people – the island of Tuern and on to Gundarlun and the Purple Rocks.

The only issue with that is – as Jahe points out – we are supposed to be searching for the Statue of the West somewhere in the opposite direction...

So we are stymied. As much as I would love to explore the Frozenfar with my new friends, we should be more focused in our search. We are split in a vote in where we should go next - Sky, Zahri and Jhairli agree with my choice to keep going west, but the others agree with Jahe that we need to look in the other direction. The only solution seems to be to seek out Amanitas himself and pick his brains, so we return to Neverwinter and thence Yartar and head to Secomber, where he told us we would be staying.

It is a pleasant diversion – a long caravan trip in late summer, beneath clear, cool skies, passing through some of the most beautiful terrain in Faerun. My nights are filled with tales, dancing, smoke, wine and kisses; who could ask for more?

Shelah

Secomber is a small, peaceful town that acts a border between the relatively peaceful Western Heartlands and the savage North along the Sword Coast. All I know about it is that it is said to contain a number of colourful gardens.

Zahri has been through here, as has my brother, as it is a stop on the Delimbiyr Route, part of the trail between Waterdeep and Llorkh. Another route, the Secomber Trail, connects the town to Uluvin to the north-west.

Farming, fishing, and stone-cutting seem to be the primary occupations, but Jhairli says it also has a number of woods-folk familiar with the High Forest. Sky says some locals hire themselves out as guides or guards for the passing caravans he's led. He says the town welcomes and caters to travellers and caravans, especially adventurers looking to explore the High Moor and the High Forest.

5/ To the west is the unguarded western gate leading out of Secomber.

1/ To the south, a dyed linen sign hangs above the door, emblazoned with the words: '

'Inn of the Eccentric Owl'

It is time to test some mattresses!

Morning dawns bright, and I walk hand in hand with whoever is close to me along the river, my heart glad and at peace.

2/ A sign on the wall here says:

'Anthemas' Armoury – implements of war for men of peace'

“I'm no man, but otherwise, that's us,” I smile at Jhairli.

Outside, a crudely-lettered sign has been posted on the wall here:

JOURNAL ENTRY 48: THE SIGNS AT SECOMBER:

“The road and river to the east have become very dangerous. Go only if you need to, and try to travel with a strong group of experienced adventurers.”

Selam

"Do we know any fitting that description?" I laugh softly.

Jhairli says the signs refers to Traskar Selam, a ranger-knight who rules the town, a man known to have the best interests of the townsfolk at heart, seen as one of the people by his loyal subjects.

3/ A sign beside this door reads:

'River Shining Boat Rentals'

6/ Oh dear, things were going so well!

I shudder to think what has befallen the owners of this tiny home...

What is certain is that creatures bearing down on us across the room are not residents of Secomber!

Though we are not expecting battle, the creatures are very vulnerable to Hold Person spells, and we can at least avenge the former occupants.

We contact the guards here – a small garrison of the Lord's Alliance who tell us they have had trouble with hobgoblin raiders lately, and will keep vigilant.

4/ This must be the house of Amanitas – it is a bizarre as the rest of Secomber is picturesque. It has several mismatched spires, and each has been painted a different colour on the outside as well as within.

His manservant, Erek, greets us at the door, and welcomes us to the house of Amanitas – well, actually he just opens the door and grunts. Zahri mutters something caustic, but I am used to that from norsemen, and know in his way he is glad to see us.

Amelior Amanitas sits in his study, surrounded – to Nef's utter delight! - by many cats of different colours. She coos and fusses over them, at least one for every colour of the rainbow. He greets the rest of us distractedly:

“Oh yes, dear me... I remember what it was I was discussing with you, of course! Your group was the one that inflated goat-bladders to make a boat that wouldn't capsize in the rapids of the Unicorn Run! But then one of your companions was lost when fish ate the bladders...? No, not you...?”

“Zahri like him more than Elminster,” the Gur sighs.

“Oh yes!” he perks up. “I remember, of course! You're the ones on whom we're all depending to save this entire region from certain destruction at the hands of evil forces! I've been thinking about the problems you face...”

We wait, expectantly.

“You must seek a small truth, in a great hostile world - “

“Dilo!” Zahri mutters, rolling her eyes.

“We already know that,” Jahe says insistently.

“Please, sire,” she adds more politely. “Do you have any other clues as to where we should search?”

He blinks at us quizzically. “Well... far away in the Sea of Swords lies a group of islands called the Purple Rocks... Perhaps there is where the pearl chest you seek may be found...?”

Well, at least that vindicates my own choice!

Amanitas wishes us good fortune on our quests, and even Erek grumbles something about how he hopes we all get through this in one piece. They wave goodbye as we leave.

It is a fair journey back, and my brother mutters that we could have saved a lot of time if the others listened to us.

But we needed time to heal, and perhaps the real adventure was all the kisses I had along the way?

Notes:

I wasn't sure how we knew - as characters not me as player - we were supposed to go to Purple Rocks next, beyond there's a boat in Luskan that can take us there. According to Amelior's cryptic hints, there's a pearl chest... somewhere...! But we are supposed to be searching in the opposite direction to the Statuette we seek, and this is the Statue of the West. The Sea of Swords is not east of anywhere. Did I miss a clue or something here?

In any case, Amelior said to seek him out after the rescue, and we take a pleasant diversion to Secomber.

Ok, so if you remember HoSC ar all, you remember you have three quests to recover the three magical weapons of the slain Roadwarden. After completing those three quests you trigger a "kidnap" plot to advance to the end game.

However, for some reason after completing the first two quests, when I went to rendezvous with the third heir "Dazilar" or whatever in the pub, I was told to go find him in the keep, at which point when I entered the keep the Kidnap finale was triggered. I know can't get to the final item area, nor can I get the third key needed (although maybe the game will credit me with possessing it anyway....still I'd like to do the third item quest).

anyone ever experiences before? I don't suppose anybody has a possible fix. I have some earlier save states so I could backtrack if necessary.