Maps for Session 1

Session 1 begins. It is official: The Hype train has left the station. Here's the maps.

Clicken to Embiggen

Map 1. Sturkhmar and the surrounding areas (most yet unnamed).

Clicken to Embiggen

Map 2. The Wyrd (connects to the western side of the map; a slight disparity in the terrain, please ignore), the subject of Dražan's intended exploratory mission.

Sturkhmar, City of Sails

The first session of the campaign happens tonight. While frantically developing enjoying bucolic repasts, I thought I would sneak in an introduction to the corner of the Hinterlands the players will begin in. Without further ado–

Sturkhmar, the City of Sails. 
Sturkhmar is the refined yet rough-and-tumble coastal haven of the southern coast. 36,000 seafarers, explorers, stevedores, and wanderers call her home, sitting with whitewashed walls overlooking loamy orchards and foaming tides. Amongst her finest set-pieces are the numerous coffee-houses (Despite the past war with the southlands) and the Wharves of a Thousand Banners: named both in reverence of the city's patron hero-saint Rarog and in honour of the far-flung exports that flood from cargo holds there. 

The people are often cast as sea-thugs and brigands, but for every corsair there is another Sturkhmari of another persuasion entirely. Indeed, the city is diverse: Where trade is, people follow, and it seems that the religions, complexions, dogmas, and fashions within Sturkhmar's walls are more diverse than the goods that can be bought.

Traditions in Sturkhmar are known to be full of pomp, wealth, and peculiarity. They include the bi-annual anointment and demolishment of the Gods-in-the-City, those deities of the Cyclical Court adulated in Sturkhmar; The burning of two dozen gold-laden ships in the harbour, in honour of the great Victory at Zatokar; the hundreds of superstitions surrounding the weather; and the lauding of the Tomb of the Deities from (not of) Sturkhmar (but more on that in another post).

Right. This short introduction is just a teaser, based on what's been thought up already. More will come when the dice have been rolled (and I'm not backlogged with whirly, mechanical elements to work out). 

Carrying the Banner of a Charlatan

The particulars of today's session– specifically that of Dražan's exploratory commission– needs be given definition. It appears that the exploration of the large tract of Wyrd to the west will be on the minds of our gold-hungry, bravado-filled heroes– before I get myself into trouble, I'm best to define the terms of their agreement. 

Duke Dražan the Twice-Dead

As much of a renowned charlatan, mountebank, and all-round leech that Dražan is (having made a profession off of begging the Prince's money), it appears he tires of his usual rakehellery and fraud in the palace compound. For unknown reasons, Dražan has called upon the typical crowd of vagrants, freebooters, condottiere, and pilgrims for one reason: to explore the Wyrd beyond the pass of the Western Mountains, in Dražan's name.

For those who carry Dražan's banner (a bawdy affair of two fluttering tails and a depiction of St. Dvorovost with an eerily similar visage to Dražan), the Twice-Dead Duke offers bounty upon each return of an exploratory party. These amount to the following:

30 grivna for each five-mile hex explored; although this quant old explorer's metric is hardly in use, Dražan is reviving it here. 

100 grivna for each amicable settlement explored; preferably exploitable inhabitants, if you please. 

A variable sum, given in proportion to sites of distinct interest; Hopefully, discoverers will have the decency to clear the place of any disheartening foes or creatures. 

Access to the Esteemed Guild of Hirelings, including their fine ranks of men-at-arms and bravos, shield-bearers and torch-bearers, porters and loot-haulers. For pre-organized exploratory parties, the armour and union costs of up to three hirelings will be on-the-house.

Room and Board in one of the many coffee houses for which Dražan offers patronage. 

The Wyrd of the West 

The area beyond those Western mountains– a vast and verdant valley– was lost perhaps two hundred years ago to the Wyrd. Ever since that day, few have travelled there and none have returned. Of course, rumour abounds as to the place's contents: anywhere from a river that reaches the Pomegranate Sea to the pleasure-palaces of the Old Ones themselves. Indeed, it is a place of myth and legend, and many would-be heroes are champing at the bit to explore it. 

The Hinterlands Hex-Crawl (Introductions and Revisions)

(Pre-text note: In this post, I will detail the Hinterland politics, customs, and current affairs. Additionally, I will include clarified house rules with simplified explanations). 

The Hinterlands is the common term for the archaically denoted "Eleven Illustrious City-States of the Inner Sea Domains and Beyond, lorded by Merchant-Princes Consecrated and Most Laudable". A roughly 160-mile square region of jagged coasts and deep forests, bordered by mountains and Wyrd to the west, the eleven-city states here sprawl in betrothal and hardly credible federation (which is known to break down as often as it is repaired). Each decade, they elect a figurehead Over-prince, who is currently Zygmunt IV (all hail). 

Our scattered and mismatched heroes have each reached the town of Sturkhmar City-of-Sails on the Southwest coast of the Inner Sea, whether this day or before. A town ruled by an unpredictable Merchant-Prince and his virile charge of sons, the people are often characterised as seafaring thugs for their aptitude for skipping about the seas. However true this thuggery might be, one cannot ignore the richness of the crowd and goods that flood into the city's wharves. 

The State of the Dis-union 

As we begin this farce, tragedy, and epic, the Hinterlands are even more chaotic and decentralised than usual. Dropped to her knees from a joint war with the Southlands, the northern cities currently embroiled in war with the Voivodeship of Czerogrod, the Wyrd creeping and growing from the west, the merchant-princes power-hungry, elderly, or juvenile, and dozens of other calamities have turned this fractious realm into splinters. Outside the cities, the rule of law is nominal at best: a scimitar is the only judge out there. The Wyrd's influence can be seen in strange happenings and unexplainable oddities, some even claiming that giants and even bloodthirsty, degenerate humans have returned to haunt the forest and moor. It's a crazy world beyond those walls. 

The Nitty-Gritty

The Hinterlands, like any border-realm, are known for their diversity and oddity. If you can imagine it, it can happen; likewise, various races live in relatively equal proportion in her cities. Unaccounted for in these majorities are those who travel from other border-realms or even are spewed forth from the Wyrd. They are:

Eladrin. A pallid and bright-eyed race, descended from the experiments of the elves long ago and settling in these lands. Some have forgone their old, tribal traditions, and an equal amount still embrace their wild past.

Summer-Folk. A race of emigres from the Summer Lands, with hair like brambles or feathers and the blood of the earth running in them. their home is a plane of assumably idyllic glades and forests: at least, people could explore were hosts of elkborn reavers not pouring from the gates between here and there. 

Tieflings. The descendants of those humans punished for their involvements with the beasts of Hell. Their curling horns and dusky skin serve as an eternal brand.

Gors & Urses. The first inhabitants of the hinterlands; anthropomorphic boars and bears respectively, who have always held a tenuous joint enmity against the puny folk who brought cities to their wilds.

Goliaths. The towering descendants of giants, who were driven to the Summer Country long ago. Reknown philosophers, artists, and literati, despite their sizeable digits.

Draconians. Freed Draconians from the north often descend to the Hinterlands; fettered warriors of saurian, draconic appearance, enslaved by the Voivodeship.

Minotaurs. The rippling, horned folk who– mostly– claim to have revoked their bloodthirsty past. Warriors of unsurpassed vigour and choristers to match. 

This division and diversity no doubt leads to tension at best, outright feud at worst: but perhaps one of the most uniting forces is religion in the Hinterlands. Ironically, these are also quite divided.

The Cyclical Court of A Thousand Crowns. The majority of Hinterlanders worship at least one god from this diverse and ever-changing pantheon of gods, created and dispelled by the High Prelates in accordance to the rise and fall of their domain. Handfuls of heretical cults and splinter-sects threaten their authority, though most are contained to backwoods hierophants and the occasional soap-box loony. (This religion will include analog gods to the classic D&D setting; see below).

The Andrulian Sun-Cult. A descendant of the Cyclical Court, these zealots pose that Andruli– the Sun-God– is chief and eternal, and creator of the disk. Quiver those who dare tell them otherwise to their face. They also conveniently hold a monopoly on the sale of black powder (sunfire, as they dub it) making them an irritating if necessary force to deal with.

The Hill-Gods of Old. Gors, Urses, Tribal Eladrin, and quite a few others reject the Cyclical court, holding to the ancient deities of the hills and mountains, the rivers and inlets. These elder gods hold primal and unfettered power. 

The Hero-Cults. Devoted to civic champions and chivalric ideals, paragons of virtue and paladins of honour, these knightly hosts revere their "champion" as god. They wander the roads and highways, slaying monsters and challenging travellers. 

House's Rules 

Just a few rules (updated and revised from the last post) to enhance and accentuate play. 

XP is given to individuals, not as a group; everyone will receive the base amount they're entitled to, but acts of distinct bravery and cunning warrant extra reward.

Handholding is gone to the wind, along with encounter balance, challenge ratings, and relative foe numbers. All you can count on is that further risk warrants further reward.

Individual Sessions will be available should other players be away, or it is desired by an individual to engage in a diverting side-mission. 

Luxury Items & Debauchery will become XP at a rate of 2 golden grivna (gg) to 1 XP point, as long as the item bought is used. Amongst this includes feasting, drinking to excess, romantic flings, expensive clothing, unfortified holdings, and items of decorative and ornate purpose. 

Overflow damage and Critical Criticals are in effect, meaning two things. The first: On a successful non-critical hit, add the difference between the target's defense and the natural d20 roll to damage. This does not stack with the second rule: on a critical hit, not only do you deal maximum damage, but one can also roll dice and add that as well (sans modifiers). 

Guns are emerging on the market, in part for a growing need on reliance of things other than sorcery. Early firearms can be bought for 25% of their price listed here but will have different stats, to be released.

Feats related to certain Deities are still applicable; gods within the Cyclical Court will be given standard D&D equivalents, and their feats will be that of these gods. Other religions will be given their own, unique feats and benefits. 

Phew. I think that about covers everything. Welcome to the Hinterlands Hexcrawl.

The Milieu of the Border-Realms

As I mentioned in last night's post, the disk of the world could be divided into three, distinct "tiers" based on the prevalence of the Wyrd.

 The most Wyrd-less of these is the Hyperborea, a utopia cold and glittering in the centre of the great disc. Here is found little magic and no Wyrd, but peace and luxury. For that it is strictly off-limits to players save retiring adventurers.

The most Wyrd-ful of these are the Far-Realms, the distant and smoky fringes of the world. These lands are clouded by Wyrd, unexplored by civilization and no doubt full of races and places weird. It is the jabberwocky of explorers and even charting a sliver of it would be the magnum opus of any adventurer out there.

But the swath of where the players currently are– and will no doubt explore for quite some time– is the Border-Realms. It is the vast ring of the world between utopia and terra incognita, splintered between the Wyrd and civilization, between endless hyphen-happy monarchies and nations, pragmatic heroes and crawling beasts. The Wyrd and civilised land constantly contest, undulating and straining against each other.

On top of this, countless centuries of political struggle and splintering succession have made the politics petty and capricious, shavings of territory the subject of blood feuds between families who can only dimly trace themselves back to a shared dynast. The fatality of the place's nature only encourages this, sometimes dozens of brothers and sisters fighting over their progenitor's demesne for years.

Despite this vicious political environment, the people are as varied and wondrous as they could be. A swath of races– from the brambled summer-folk to the tattooed and pallid eladrin, and countless others not organisable by metric or genus– contain even a more varied swath of professions, talents, desires, abilities, and dispositions.

Between (and sometimes within) the borders of these lands extend swaths of the Wyrd like blooms of fungus and bacteria. Exploration abounds amongst these, and although it is done in the interest of driving the Wyrd from the land, it often has the opposite effect. The freebooters and ruffians hired to do the dirty work cannot resist to bring back corpses of defeated beasts, hoards of gold, and spells or rituals discovered within the Wyrd, all "infected"with the Wyrd's influence.

Metagame Analysis ephemera and all 

This campaign will be equally about exploring typical D&D dungeons and cities as it will be mapping and charting the Wyrd and her countless lost, undiscovered, and forgotten "places and races Weird". It'll be all about the blank hexes beyond the charted ones. And for that I'm very excited: I'm hoping the players pick up on the liberal "exploration" hooks I litter everywhere. (Hint hint).

The Nature, Effects, and Ramifications of the Wyrd

A player in the upcoming campaign set out that he was confused on what the Wyrd was. This was interesting, as I was somewhat confused as to what it was as well. Up until that point, my ideas had been a sensory, vague swill of open-ended metaphors and useless slivers of anecdote to describe it. But now, the ideas have come to cohesion.

The Wyrd is tracts of land where the veils between the planes grow weak, allowing their influence to spill over to various effect. As is orthodox by most cosmologists on the Disk, The planes are all in the relatively same place, as well as their pasts and futures: as if each plane where an image, and they were lain over each other and held up to the sun. However, most mortals cannot see or engage between the planes, for reasons divine and unknown.

The Wyrd frays the veils between the planes, allowing one plane (or an era of history or the future, or a distinct anti-reality) to gain influence over a certain area. This can manifest in strange creatures, weird peoples, odd (and dangerous) environmental effects, and marked changes in terrain. Most of the time, the usual expectation of geography, physics, and society is uncoupled from the Wyrd.

The Wyrd shifts and undulates according to mortal's involvements with magic and the wyrd itself. Intense use of magic weakens the planar veil and thus can result in Wyrd, as well as mortal meddling with already-established Wyrd: bringing back artefacts, parlancing with it's denizens, and even creating crude charcoal sketches has known to increase the Wyrd's presence. It is for this reason that most magic-use is banned inside metropolises.

Oftentimes, the Wyrd envelops worldly kingdoms or cities, to their knowledge (or not). Other times, races, figures, cities, or geographies of other planes are grafted into our own, bringing with them strangeness and oddity. In select cases, true gates to other planes have been found: however, these are unstable and close and open on near-whim.

The Wyrd has varying degrees of frequency. In the frigid, cold centre of the disk, the Wyrd rarely appears: It is a safe utopia there, but magic is banned (and lacks the luster it has further out). This is the only off-limits portion of the world to my players, unless they intend to retire.

Much of the world, the Hinterlands included, is considered "Border-Realm"– where the Wyrd and the Mundane constantly battle for control. Here the Wyrd appears in marbled bands across certain areas, warranting exploration but in only equal proportion to that of mundane, and far safer territory.

The closer one gets to the edge of the disk, the thicker the Wyrd gets. by the time one reaches the "Far-Realms", the Wyrd is dominant– and beyond that, completely obscures the edge of the world. Amongst these hardly explored areas often come strange and wonderful things. Myth and legend intermingle with truth here, and are often truth themselves. To explore even a sliver of this vast and mythic terra incognita would be the magnum opus of any explorer for years to come.

I hope this clears things up for anyone who did not understand it (it certainly helped me). As a post-script, enjoy some of the art that inspires the Wyrd for me:

House Rules in the Hinterlands Campaign

The Hinterlands campaign will have a handful of house rules to enhance play and player agency. These come out of the interest to make a sandbox still feel like a progressive series of adventures, as well as an interest to introduce elements of the game that 4th edition lacks or handles terribly (I'm looking at you, three-hour combat encounters).

First, a few rules-of-thumb:

XP will be given to individuals, not as a lump sum. One of the benefits of a sandbox campaign means I can award XP for individual bravado, ingenuity, or cunning. Rather than give each player a set and equal amount of XP after each encounter, I'll be awarding each player individually based on their participation and effort. Educational buzz-words aside, Nobody's going to be getting less than the minimum they'll need. Rather, extra XP will come to those who display exceptional bravado, ruthlessness, ingenuity, and/or deviousness.
No hand-holding will be given. In the context of D&D, this means the age-old "you don't want to go there, it's far too high level". Should you wish to do something, I won't stop you, however high or imbalanced it might be. It'll be up to the players to figure out based on context clues whether a higher risk is worth the higher reward.
Finally, Individual "mini-sessions" will be available. If a player (or their character) wants to do something that the other player's don't, or the other players are too busy to play this session, I'll be willing to conduct sessions with individuals. These'll be side-quests, and I won't carry on the current all-player quest without all players. As above, this will count for XP; however, I'm not going to let players just grind XP and ascend levels above their companions.

And Now the House rules:

1. Luxury Items are XP 
Players have little incentive to buy luxury items (beyond the soft influence of roleplaying). In a world of unpredictable magic and dangerous foes, a lance or iron axe will serve a character tenfold more than any luxuriant clothes, decor, or abode. However, in practicality, luxury products increased status and affluence. Should a player wish, they can spend their gold on luxury items, and I'll award XP equal to half the item's cost in gold. "Luxury" item is defined by the DM on a case-by-case basis. Additionally, the item has to be used: There will be no buying empty mansions, unworn jewel-encrusted kaftans, or golden chalices untouched by wine.

2. "Overflow" Damage
A hit's damage isn't only dependable on the weapon's sharpness or the spell's potency. A towering barbarian can turn a broken chair-leg into a blood-spattered mace, and an archmage could turn even the simplest magic missile into more of a thermonuclear missile. As such:

When an attack is successful, add the difference between the natural dice roll and the target defence to the damage.

For example, a roll of 19 with an arcing sword against a poor orcish archer's measly 13 AC would not only do the usual damage, but with an additional +6 damage from the potency of the roll. This only includes the natural roll, not the roll plus bonuses (which means, yes, this rule will lose relevance as we move up in levels). This provides variance in attack damage and will expedite D&D 4th edition's lengthy combat encounters in earlier levels.
When it comes to critical hits, however:

A critical hit (natural 20) will result in the attack's max damage being added to rolled damage.

For example, a critical hit using a power that does 3[W] (say, a 1d8 longsword) will result in 24 damage PLUS bonuses PLUS 3d8 damage. This extra roll does not include bonuses.

As both of these rules apply to players and enemies alike, this could get dangerous. Armour will become all the more important, and could tell the difference between 10 and 20 damage (life or death, sometimes). Additionally, this makes attacks that target the often-lower defenses (will and fortitude) all the more ruthless, making casters and magic a terrible force to behold (but adversely making the typical "glass cannon" mage all the more susceptible to damage).

3. The Wyrd Scale

The borders between different times, planes, universes, and timelines is tentative at best. Especially in this world, where even now vast wounds between the planes still howl and spew forth cosmic oddities, this defines civilization. This is in part due to the actions of the people of the world: meddling with the Wyrd, or with large amounts of magic, further weaken the boundaries between the planes, resulting in the Wyrd gaining more influence over the world. I'm going to create a scale that will depict the battle between normality and weirdness. The more player influence with the Wyrd, the stranger things will get in the area, and vice versa. The Wyrd naturally recedes after a time relative to the potency of whatever brought it there: likewise, things naturally tick down the scale, at a nigh-unnoticable rate.

Notes on these rules

This game looks like it'll turn into a fast-paced and blood-filled one, with plenty of strange happenings and non-uniformity. As fun as that sounds, it's never happened in our gaming group before: therefore, these rules could change once they get off the paper and onto the gaming table. We'll see how things go.

Hill-Giants, Enterprising Mountebanks, and the Four-moon Eclipse: News from the Inner Sea

Some pre-session news for the free-booters and vagrants fresh off the streets of the Merchant-Princedoms.

The Grand Voivodeship of Czerogrod continues to wage war on the cities of the northern Inner Sea Coast, Knyaztarg and Rovelka. Despite the Voivodeship's casus belli (shattering blockades between them and their allies on the Southern Coast) trade has stagnated, resulting in a loss of foreign imports and hardy Knyaztargi horses in the South. Despite pinning the Northern Coast between themselves and the south, Voivodeship sieges and armies have slowed in movement. Coffee-houses are rife with discussion as to whether this implies fatigue or is the calm before a renewed offensive.
(Please note the above illustration was an idealised image used in a city-state broadsheet, and fails to depict the Voivodeship arquebus-wagons, draconian slave-warriors, or psionic zakonniks).

Reknown duellist and member of the Banners of the Bloody Needle, Rytsar Androj the Bellicose was seen drunk on persimmon wine through the public houses and taverns of Sturkhmar. Between singing pagan epics and recounting tales of personal valour, he wailed drunkenly of towering hill-giants wandering through the forests west of the city. As hill-giants were hunted and driven back to the Summer-Country long ago, Androj was ignored or ridiculed by the populace. He has received little succour from his now-former hero-cult, who– as per usual with unchivalric displays– have issued a warrant for his head, offering his armour and sovyna as bounty.

Enterprising mountebank-apparently-turned-entrepeneur, self-titled Duke, and decided rake Dražan the Twice Dead has turned from a life of quackery and charlatanism at the at the palace of Prince Torrimmur XXIV of Sturkhmar to one of avoiding the sluggish doldrums of middle-aged rakehellery. Dražan is offering sums of gold, said to be taken from his ducal demesne, for exploration and discovery beyond the mountains– specifically, that of the Wyrd. Various sums for varying tasks are on offer, and benefits– according to the "Duke" himself– are bountiful and indispensable. To inquire, Dražan can be found in the galleries and porticos of Prince Torrimmur's Palace. 

The movements of the sky-orbs has aligned in such a way that all four are visible in the sky for the next season, roughly until midsummer. Intermittent eclipses and umbras are expected to provide for strange effects throughout the Hinterlands. The pagan hill worshippers have descended into various bacchanalia, and Andrulian Sun-Worshippers have declared the ritual period of allegiance to Andruli. All the faithful must wear weapons at all times, in honour of the sun's battle with his four enemies, the sky-orbs.