Go to Part 1

Do you want to build a four-foot-high Mrathrach Tower for your Ptolus campaign?

Of course you do.

Below you’ll find a graphics package. This package uses resources shared by users of the old Okay You’re Turn forums on Monte Cook’s website, most notably those created by Eric of Ptolus, but I significantly remixed these into the form you’ll find here.

In addition to the graphics, you will also need to purchase supplies:

(1) Foamboard that is at least 20” x 20”. You’ll need 10 pieces, one for each level of floor. I recommend getting black foamboard, which will significantly enhance the visual quality of the finished piece.

(2) A concrete form with a 10” diameter. The one I’m linking here should work (unless the dimensions have changed in the years since I purchased it). For reference, the dimensions you’re looking for are:

• Inner Diameter: 10”
• Thickness: 3/8”
• Outer Circumference: 32.6”

(3) Glue for attaching the printed graphics to the foamboard and concrete form.

(4) Approximately 4” high ladders for connecting the tower levels. (The ones I used are no longer available for sale, but you can probably make something like this work.)

DOWNLOAD THE GRAPHICS PACKAGE

FLOOR DISCS

All nine levels of floor are identical. The graphics package contains the following floor files:

• A 3-page PDF which has been pre-tiled for printing on letter paper. The pages deliberately overlap in order to make assembly easier.
• The original Photoshop (PSD) file.
• An alternative 24-inch PSD file (which I abandoned because I wasn’t able to find foamboard wide enough to accommodate it).

To assemble the floor discs:

1. Print nine copies of the floor graphics.
2. Glue them to the foamboard and wait for them to dry.
3. Cut them out. For stability, do NOT cut out the inner circle (in black above).

The foamboard gives enough rigidity to support your miniatures.

LEVELS

Each level of the Mrathrach Tower has a PDF file (for printing) and a PSD file (the original graphics). The PDF files are once again prepared for printing on letter paper.

To assemble the levels:

1. Print a copy of each layer strip. (Note that layers 3 and 6 as well as layers 4 and 8 are identical, so make sure to print out a copy of each.)
2. Cut out each layer strip.
3. Cut ten 4”-tall circular sections from the concrete form. (Do NOT divide the form evenly into ten sections. The layer strips won’t fit.)
4. Glue each layer strip to one of the circular sections. Each layer strip includes a red border which is designed to fold over the top and bottom of the section for a clean finish.
5. From your tenth piece of black foamboard, cut out a circular “cap” for the top of Level 1. Attach the cap to the top of Level 1. (You do NOT need a cap for each circular section. Just Level 1.)

You may want to label each circular section by writing its level number on the INSIDE of the section. This may make it easier to assemble the tower.

ASSEMBLING THE TOWER

You should now have:

• 9 floors
• 10 levels

To assemble the tower:

1. Place Level 10 on the floor or tabletop.
2. Place a floor disc on top of the Level 10 cylinder.
3. Place Level 9 on top of the floor disc, lining it up so that it appears continuous with Level 10.
4. Place a second floor disc on top of Level 9, rotating it so that it doesn’t line up with the floor level below.
5. Continue this process all the way to the top of the tower.

Ladders: Attach one or two ladders to each level.

The method that I found worked well was to insert two pins or needles into the edge of a floor piece and then hang the ladder from them. I found that varying their positions on each level, but having one or two places on the tower where they lined up so that you could ascend or descend two levels in the same place was both aesthetically pleasing and created great gameplay.

Cavern Connections: The Mrathrach Tower has been erected in a tall, vertical cavern with intersecting cavern levels. You can indicate the locations of these cavern entrances (on Levels 1, 3, 4, 7, and 8) with flag pins. (These caverns can then be mapped on a nearby table.)

Level 10 Cavern: The base of the tower rests on the floor of the cavern, with a passage leading to the Rhodintor Nests. You could prepare these maps separately and print them out. I just set the Tower on top of a Chessex battlemat and sketched in the relevant caverns.

Permanent Assembly: You could hypothetically use tape or glue to permanently attach the floors and levels together. I, personally, found it easier to simply stack the tower. It’s large enough to remain stable while stacked, and it’s much easier to disassemble and store between sessions.

Go to Part 4: The Balacazar Job

Go to Part 1

Boxed text in an RPG scenario is a prewritten narration designed to be read to the players by the GM. It looks like this:

The center of this room is filled with a massive contraption of brass and copper and rotten, worm-eaten wood. Great hoops of metal are suspended about a central sphere, with various lumps, pulleys, cranks, and levers protruding here and there in an apparently chaotic and incomprehensible jumble.

(from The Complex of Zombies)

The advantage of boxed text, of course, is that it can be prepared ahead of time: It can give you a chance to carefully consider and craft your choice of words to best effect. If there’s essential information that needs to be conveyed to the players, putting it in boxed text will virtually guarantee that it’s not accidentally omitted in actual play.

In The Art of the Key, for example, I talk about how these features of boxed text make it ideal for conveying what characters see when first entering a room or location by clearly delineating the information the players should automatically have from the rest of the key. (Even if you don’t use full-fledged boxed text to achieve this effect, you’ll still want some form of not-boxed-text that fulfills the essential function.)

So why wouldn’t you use boxed text?

• Carefully crafting your words is time-consuming. (Which may suggest its elimination by virtue of the principles of smart prep.)
• The result is inherently less flexible. (For example, if a room has multiple entries the boxed text needs to be generic enough to work for any potential entrance. Add to this NPCs, lighting conditions, etc.)
• Reading prepared text to an audience is a very specific performance, and can easily be one that a GM is not comfortable with. (In such cases, the spontaneity and engagement of improvising a description will often be superior to a stilted or rushed reading.)

If you’re running a published adventure with boxed text and you’d rather not use it — for these or any other reasons — you may find it useful to highlight the key facts presented by the boxed text, quickly turning it into not-boxed text:

The center of this room is filled with a massive contraption of brass and copper and rotten, worm-eaten wood. Great hoops of metal are suspended about a central sphere, with various lumps, pulleys, cranks, and levers protruding here and there in an apparently chaotic and incomprehensible jumble.

(As described in The Art of the Key, you can use the same technique to quickly salvage location keys that have failed to differentiate “seen at a glance” information from hidden secrets.)

SINS OF THE BOX

Performance issues and a lack of flexibility, however, are not the only reasons that people dislike boxed text. Often they will have been on the receiving end of bad boxed text, which is all too prevalent in published adventures and, as a result of their poor example, homebrewed adventures, too. Many of these failures are either freeze-frame boxed text or remote-control boxed text

Freeze-frame boxed text is when the GM starts reading and then the PCs are frozen in place while a bunch of stuff happens. These can often get quite elaborate, with entire scenes being played through while the players sit impotently in their seats, boxed out (pun intended) from actually playing the game, but even subtle examples can be incredibly frustrating:

Grasping weeds and vines erupt from the cobblestone street beneath the carriage at the head of the parade. The ox pulling the cart panics, causing the vehicle to careen into a post covered in decorations. The vegetation then wraps around the cart’s wheels and the closest bystanders. A pair of revelers produce weapons, revealing themselves to be guards protecting the Prince of Vice.

(from Journeys Through the Radiant Citadel)

As soon as the players hear, “Grasping weeds and vines erupt from the cobblestone street!” they’ll want to respond to that. Instead, everyone else in the scene – including the ox! – gets to react before they do.

What we’ve identified here is the reaction point. You don’t always need to immediately stop talking when you’ve reached the reaction point (although often you should try to structure you descriptions so that you do), but even if there are other pertinent details of the world to establish, what you should avoid at all costs is having the game world continue to move forward past the reaction point without letting the players react; without letting the players play the game.

This is an easy trap to fall into with boxed text: The author (or GM) wants to establish the key features of the scene – vines appear, ox panics, cart crashes, disguised guards draw weapons – and the boxed format strongly biases you towards pushing all of that together into a single presentation.

When you see freeze-framed boxed text as a GM, though, what you should do is break it up into actionable chunks. And I use the word “actionable” here because you are specifically looking for the actions you can take as GM, allowing the players to have a reaction to each of those actions.

Here, for example, we actually start at the end of the boxed text: There are guards disguised as revelers. Before anything else happens, therefore, you should call for Perception checks to see if any PCs spot them.

(If they are spotted, what do the PCs do with that information? I have no idea. Play to find out.)

The next actionable chunk is: “Grasping weeds and vines erupt from the cobblestone street.”

That signals the start of combat, which means that it should trigger an initiative check. So rather than skipping past that moment, make the initiative check. (Or don’t if you’ve already rolled initiative and are ready to go, go, go! But either way, you’re moving into tracked combat time.)

The other actionable chunks are:

• the ox panicking and crashing the cart
• the guards drawing their weapons and moving to attack the vines

These can obviously just happen during the first round of combat, with the PCs also taking whatever initial actions they think best, too.

REMOTE-CONTROL BOXED TEXT

Remote-control boxed text suffers from similar problems (preventing the players from participating), but insidiously goes one step further by declaring the thoughts or feelings or (worse yet!) actions of the PCs.

• “You look upon the devastation of the valley and are overwhelmed by sadness.”
• “You step forward and return the king’s greeting with a deep bow.”
• “As you return to Waterdeep, you smile, thinking fondly of the ale at Trollskull Manor.”
• “You see a strange creature crouching upon the boulder. As you step into the room, it looks up with wide, yellow eyes, gives a deafening call of alarm, and then scurries away.”

There are two major problems with this sort of thing.

First, a player controls exactly one thing: their character. When you take the one thing they control away from them — even for a little bit — you have effectively removed from the game. They are, in fact, no longer a player, but merely a spectator.

Second, for many players, the damage that you do in those brief moments of seizing control can extend far beyond the moment itself. If their character does something that isn’t what they would have chosen to do, it can often feel as if there’s something “wrong” with the character. Do it enough — or do it at just the wrong moment — and the player may dissociate entirely from the character. When that happens, you may have easily just ruined the entire campaign for them.

So… don’t do this. As the GM you literally have control over the entire game world. Be content with literally the entire universe of toys you have to play with.

Focus on showing the players the scene and letting them react to it. Don’t tell them how they’re reacting to it.

Those reactions, it should be noted might be:

• physical actions
• emotional reactions
• reflective thought
• dialogue

And so forth. There’s a wide panoply of possible experiences, and some of them may be entirely internal to the player. You may never know, for example, how their character truly felt about something. That’s okay. The important part is that they know, and it will shape their actions and the course of the entire campaign.

Go to Part 14: Fearing the Silence

Journeys Through the Radiant Citadel is a transplanar adventure anthology featuring fifteen new and vibrant worlds for your D&D characters to explore. To truly bring these worlds to life, of course, each must remain distinct from the others. One key way you can do this is through the names of the characters, so it’s just not good enough to use generic fantasy names (like the list found here).

The book features a list of names for each setting, but they’re very short lists (sometimes offering only a dozen or so options). Estela Apanco, Eladio Infante, and Xochitl Moreno are fantastic options… but then what?

Obviously you need more. And that’s where this name list comes into play, expanding your options for each setting to roughly four dozen names (which can usually be mix-and-matched for many more).

GENERAL NOTES

Basic Use: Pick a name.

For Variety: Mix-and-match first and last names. (For example, take “Shing Bao” and “Tong Jun”. You can name a character “Shing Jun” instead.)

Disclaimer: Anywhere that I’ve butchered proper naming conventions, you can assume that it was a totally deliberate decision reflecting the fantastical nature of the setting. (Innocent whistling.)

SAN CITLÁN

Two Surnames: Those native to San Citlán may have two family surnames, one inherited from each of their parents. Select an additional surname to achieve this effect.

SHANKHABHUMI

Shankhabhumi surnames are all based on their city of birth (either Sagopuri, Ashwadhatuj, or Tippuri). Descendants of Manivarsha can take the last name Bhatiyali.

TAYYIB

The nisbah last names should be based on locations from the Tayyib Empire (and surrounding lands). I’ve seeded in a few of these, but we don’t know enough about the Empire to do it properly. So some of these surnames will make the knowledgeable either (a) believe the NPC must have traveled to the Empire from Earth or (b) roll their eyes at you.

UMIZU

Names are given last-first.

YEONIDO

Clan names are listed first.

Given names often have two syllables, and it’s not unusual for siblings and cousins of the same generation to share one syllable of their name (e.g., Ji-Min and Ji-Yun).

YONGJING

Family name is listed first.

Status name is listed second. All of the listed names use birth order status names (so you don’t accidentally make someone a noble). Swap them out as needed.

• Firstborn: Bo, Meng. Second-born: Xia, Zhong. Third-born: Shu. Fourth-born+: Ji.
• Noble: Jun. Heir: Si. Scholar: Wen.

Aspirational name listed third.

A person’s personal name is status name + aspirational name.

All Yongjing names are ungendered.

(click for PDF)

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 28A: The Maw Beckons

They left. Once they were safely in the carriage and driving away from the Cathedral they talked things over.

“I don’t trust him,” Tor said.

Dominic nodded. “You can put crimson robes on a pig, it’s still not a novarch.”

But they would practically be getting paid twice for the same job. There was no reason to pass that up.

Scenario hooks are the methods by which PCs become aware that an adventure exists, are enticed to engage the adventure, and/or are forced to engage the adventure.

If you’re prepping a plot, then you’ll usually only have a single scenario hook which will also tell the PCs what they’re supposed to do (in order to set the predetermined plot in motion). If, on the other hand, you don’t prep plots and, instead, prep situations, you’ll find that you have A LOT more flexibility in the scenario hooks you set up.

One particularly powerful technique is, in fact, to have multiple scenario hooks pointing at the same scenario. You may do this for purely practical reasons (fulfilling the Three Clue Rule, for example), but it can also be deployed to great effect.

One of my favorite techniques, actually, is to have two different patrons offer to hire the PCs for the same job; or, more accurately, for jobs involving the same scenario. This setup creates the context for framing tough dilemmas. (“Do we chase after the assassin to claim the bounty or do we save the Jewel of Erthasard from the river of lava?”) In fact, you can do this from the moment the job offer comes in: If Patron A asks them to murder the CEO of Abletek and Patron B asks them to work as the CEO’s security detail during an upcoming business conference, you’re immediately forcing the players to really think about the scenario they’re being hooked into: What do they want to have happen to the CEO? They can’t just sit back and passively do whatever they’re told to do. They’re going to have make a decision.

And, once they’re thinking about the situation and making choices for themselves, they may end up deciding they want something completely different from either patron.

Another technique I enjoy using as surprising scenario hooks: It’s easy to have a hook tell the PCs exactly what’s happening. “There are goblins in the Old Tower and they’ve been raiding the local farms.” But it can often be more effective to not do that: Maybe the villagers think there are goblins at the Old Tower, but it’s actually an infestation of imps. Or the goblins in the tower are actually just orphans, and they’re not the ones responsible for the recent raids.

A surprising scenario hook, as the name suggests, sets things up for the players to be surprised later in the scenario. And there are, of course, all kinds of ways for you to use this surprise, whether for dramatic or strategic effect.

In this session, I’m combining both of these techniques while hooking the PCs into the Banewarrens. Not only are they being simultaneously approached by two patrons with different objectives related to the Banewarrens, but the true nature of those objectives are not immediately apparent to the players.

In this case, this also means that the PCs can initially believe that there’s no conflict between the two commissions. The surprising reversal will come when they discover the truth and realize their twin masters cannot, in fact, be satisfied simultaneously.

We have another name for that: Conflict.

Delicious, delightful conflict.

The other subtlety here is Tavan Zith. In the original Banewarrens book, Zith does not actually function as a scenario hook. (There’s no way for the PCs to backtrack from Zith to the Banewarrens.) The encounter with Zith, however, functions as a justification: The PCs interacting with Zith is used to justify the Inverted Pyramid (and, in my version, the Church) deciding to hire the PCs for this job.

I had also, knowing these hooks for the Banewarrens were coming, made a point of laying groundwork with both Jevicca Nor and the Imperial Church earlier in the campaign. I wasn’t sure exactly how this earlier involvement with these factions would play out, but really any involvement would either (a) help justify the PCs getting approached for this gig and/or (b) create tension that could be similarly paid off in the Banewarrens. In practice, this turned out even better than I could have ever anticipated:

“We live in a time of prophecy,” Rehobath said. “And you seem to have a habit of finding yourselves in the middle of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The extraordinary events in Oldtown today — in which I have been told you were involved — are the beginning of what will be a new chapter in history. Tavan Zith has returned to this world, and if the prophecies are true that means that the Banewarrens have been opened.”

I actually did take the further step of making Tavan Zith an actual scenario hook: The PCs could have either backtracked his path by canvassing Oldtown (they didn’t do this) or interrogated him (they tried this, but failed their rolls). This is what I refer to as a curiosity hook (i.e., no one tells the PCs to go check out where Zith came from; but Zith’s presence and extraordinary actions make them aware of the scenario, and they can pursue it and/or get involved with it if their curiosity so inclines them).

You may be thinking: “A die roll for the scenario hook? But what if they failed the check?!”

Well… they did fail. But I had three more hooks lined up, so that’s okay.

Of far more concern would be if the players ended up simply not being interested in the Banewarrens at all. What should we do about that?

First, I’ve spent some time priming the pump here by layering in a bunch of foreshadowing about the Banewarrens. For example, the “Drill of the Banewarrens” in Session 16A. By the time we go to Act II, the players were already intrigued by the Banewarrens, which made them eager to jump at clear hooks pointing them in that direction.

Second, another advantage of using multiple hooks is that it gives the players multiple reasons to be interested in the scenario: Do you want to make allies with the Inverted Pyramid? Pursue your relationship with the Imperial Church? Get close to one or the other so that you can screw them over later? Pursue the powerful magical treasures within? Figure out how to put an end to the threat posed by Tavan Zith?

If I just used one hook, the reaction to that hook might be negative: “We’d like to help, but we don’t have time,” or, “We don’t trust the Church, so we’re not going to tangled up with them.” But with multiple hooks in play, it actually becomes exponentially more likely that the players will see a reason why they want to get involved. (And, again, not just the ones you package up for them. They’re very likely to come up with their own reasons.)

Third, even if turns out that the players aren’t interested in this scenario, the fact that I’ve already set things up so that there are multiple factions involved with interests that directly compete with each other will make it super easy for me to figure out what would happen next even in the absence of the PCs. In this case, the Banewarrens would drop into the campaign’s background events. From that position, they would continue to affect the campaign world, and likely things that the players ARE interested in. It’s extremely plausible that this would generate additional hooks in the future, which may or may not pull the PCs in after all. (Albeit into a scenario that may have already been radically transformed by their earlier decision not to get involved.)

NEXT:
Campaign Journal: Session 28B – Running the Campaign: Multi-Threaded Campaigns
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 28A: THE MAW BECKONS

September 14th, 2008
The 15th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Jevicca offered them 1,000 gold pieces each for a preliminary investigation of the Banewarrens and identified a mansion on Nibeck Street in Oldtown where the Inverted Pyramid had first detected the surges of wild magic.

They looked at each other, clearly uncertain. Tee asked Jevicca if they might have a few moments alone to discuss the matter. Jevicca agreed and headed downstairs.

They quickly discussed what they had just learned. It wasn’t the first time they’d heard of the Banewarrens. They had discovered the “Drill of the Banewarrens” in the laboratories of Ghul’s Labyrinth, and now they could guess at the impregnable walls that the Skull-King had been seeking to penetrate. And, of course, there was also the prophecy of the coming of Tavan Zith that they had discovered in Pythoness House – a prophecy which now seemed to be coming true.

“There’s something else,” Tee said. She pulled out a thick bundle of papers representing the various fruits of their investigations. Among them was the sheet of astronomical-based prophecies they had discovered in the house of Helmut Itlestein. “Listen to this.”

The warrens are opened. Great evil pours forth.
No seal may be found while the heart remains untouched.

“I thought it was talking about the Warrens, but it didn’t make any sense. Maybe it’s actually talking about the Banewarrens.”

There was more than a little trepidation in the room. It was easy to feel overwhelmed in the face of such portentous history and riddling prophecy. The Banewarrens seemed like an insurmountable problem.

“But it’s not a problem we have to solve,” Ranthir pointed out. “She just wants us to investigate.”

“It’s easy money,” Agnarr said. “We don’t even have to go in. She said preliminary.”

(Dominic looked at him. “Where did you learn that word?” Agnarr grunted.)

Tee frowned. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”

“It’s never that easy,” Tor said.

But they decided to take the job. Tee headed downstairs to tell Jevicca. As she arrived in the entryway, however, Elestra walked in off the street. Tee sent her up to talk to the others.

Jevicca was glad that they were willing to conduct the investigation. While discussing the exact parameters of what the Inverted Pyramid was looking for (which turned out to be fairly vague), Tee dropped the name of Tavan Zith to see if Jevicca would know it. She didn’t.

Tee explained Zith’s identity and gave Jevicca copies of the two prophecies they had discovered. Jevicca promised to look into them.

A PARANOIA OF CASTLE SHARD

Tee headed back upstairs. By the time she got there, Elestra had already been filled in by the others. She agreed with Agnarr. It sounded like easy money.

After discussing it, they decided not to go up to the Nibeck Street mansion until the next morning. Many of them were exhausted from the ordeals they had suffered earlier in the streets of Oldtown and there were only a few hours left before Tee needed to go back undercover to the Brotherhood of Venom’s project site.

Dominic, however, raised the possibility of trying to question Tavan Zith again. “I know it’s dangerous, but we could try talking to him somewhere without any people around. Like a ceme— Like a field. A big, empty field.”

“We need some way of talking to him without triggering his power,” Tee said.

Ranthir pondered this for a moment. “The effect triggers a latent connection to sorcerous powers. It’s possible that an antimagic field should suppress it. If nothing else, it would suppress the powers released in others.”

“Can you make one of those?” Dominic asked.

Ranthir shook his head. “It’s beyond my skill.”

“We could talk to Lord Zavere,” Tee suggested.

“I don’t know if I trust Zavere any more,” Ranthir said. “We sold him the Drill of the Banewarrens yesterday and today someone breaks into the Banewarrens.”

Agnarr promptly proposed ambushing.

Elestra laughed nervously. “Okay, who here doesn’t want to ambush the most powerful wizard in the city?”

Hands were raised.

“Jevicca was interested in it, too,” Tee pointed out.

“So what you’re saying is that we can’t trust anybody?” Tor asked.

“Right,” Tee said. “Business as usual.”

There was a knock on the door.

THE SECOND INQUIRY

It was Brother Fabitor, the priest from the Chapel of St. Gustav. They let him. He seemed very nervous.

“Is this about Phon?” Tee asked. “We heard what happened to her.”

“What? Oh, no,” Fabitor said. “That was a terrible tragedy. But no, I have a message for Dominic.”

Now it was Dominic who seemed very nervous. “What is it?”

“A friend of mine has gone missing,” Fabitor explained. “A member of the Church. Earlier this evening I went to the Cathedral to report his absence. I was spoken to by the Novarch himself. I was honored. He asked me to come here. He requests an audience with Dominic.”

“When?”

“He said as soon as possible. It seemed quite urgent.”

“Then I guess we should hurry,” Tee said.

They ushered him out of the room and rapidly made preparations. Tor removed the signet ring of the Order of the Dawn. Dominic put back on the purple prelate robes that Rehobath had given him

They took a carriage to the Temple District. When they arrived at the Cathedral they were quickly escorted to Rehobath’s private office. He was waiting for them there, seeming to bathe in the light cast from his godwood desk.

Rehobath was being attended by three others: A middle-aged, brown-haired woman wearing Crissa’s ankh. A muscular, fit, middle-aged man with a shaved head wearing Athor’s cross. And a young, dark-haired man with angular features and a tall frame wearing the winged serpent of Vehthyl.

The woman introduced herself as Sister Mara von Witten, a member of the Sisterhood of Crissa. The younger man – Brother Thad – eagerly shook their hands. He gushed enthusiastically over Dominic, repeating over and over again what a great honor it was to meet him. Dominic squirmed.

Finally the other man was forced to interrupt him. “I think that’s enough. We should get down to business.”

“Yes, I agree,” Rehobath said. “This is Brother Heth Neferul, my friend and advisor.”

“How can we be of service to you, Novarch?” Dominic asked with a meekness born from feigned humility and nervous fear.

“We live in a time of prophecy,” Rehobath said. “And you seem to have a habit of finding yourselves in the middle of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The extraordinary events in Oldtown today – in which I have been told you were involved – are the beginning of what will be a new chapter in history. Tavan Zith has returned to this world, and if the prophecies are true that means that the Banewarrens have been opened. Tobias, if you would…”

Thad nodded and took up the thread. “I tend to the Archive of the Church as a member of the Order of the Silver God. There are many secrets recorded there that have been forgotten by other men. Among the legends recorded there is the tale of the Sword of Justice – a blade once wielded by the goddess Crissa herself.

“The sword was lost. But it was said to have been used by a man of great evil to create a place known as the Banewarrens. It is written that the Banewarrens were sealed by the gods themselves as an affront to the natural order of the world… but the Sword of Crissa remained inside.”

“If the Banewarrens have been opened,” Sister Mara said. “Then we have a unique opportunity to regain one of the lost artifacts of the Church.”

“If the sword is within our grasp,” Rehobath said, “It would be a powerful talisman in our cause to purify the Church. I have been told of your role in the return of Tavan Zith. And when the Chosen of Vehthyl is found in such a place… well, it seems to me that the gods have spoken.”

“Of course,” Brother Heth Neferul said, “We understand that such investigations will have certain expenses associated with them. And to that end we would be more than happy to supply you with a fund of 2,000 gold pieces for your trouble.”

They would practically be getting paid twice for the same job. There was no reason to pass that up. They agreed to the commission.

“Excuse me,” Tee said. “You said that Tavan Zith was mentioned in your books. Who is he?”

“We don’t properly know,” Brother Thad said. “But in some texts he’s referred to as a ‘saint’, so I’d assume he was working on behalf of the gods – although I have no idea which of them he may have served.”

“I see,” Tee said. “Thank you.”

Running the Campaign: One Job, Multiple Patrons – Campaign Journal: Session 28B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index