Skulls of Spoke Top Hill, Part 2

This is part 2 of Don't Go Past the Skulls post.

Gavin and his companion, Douglas, climbed the south side of Spoke Top Hill, Janon suggested they go that way. That's the side the Corron use when they make their rare trips into the villages.

"There's no goddamn path." Gavin erupted after searching the hillside for the better half of the morning. "We keep climbing up, but there's no trail and none of their damn skulls."

"All of which suits me fine," Douglas added.

A friend and traveling companion from when both were boys. Douglas wore a lion medallion he'd gotten when he'd joined the holy order of Delaquain. He left after a few months. But it was a longer stay than his time in the Guild of Arcane Lore. Disipline had never been a strength of his. He wore the studded leather of a guard from Eastgate, he'd walked the wall for less than a year, and held a spear he stole from a sleeping mercenary in the Seahawk Tavern.

"I've no idea why you want to risk your neck, our necks, to speak to some savage augur." He frowned when he saw a pile of rocks stacked with purpose. He stepped around it, not wanting to disturb them. "We've got perfectly good liars in Eastgate. Cost you a bit more I imagine, but the result still the same. Ohhh you have a dark future. Ohhh you have a might battle ahead. Ohhh you'll be a great leader one day. Ohhh, you have the most charming traveling companion. Nonsense like that. In Eastgate we could hear the nonsense and then hit the tavern, a real tavern where the air doesn't taste like dirt and shit."

Gavin shook his head searching the ground. His eyes saw the same pile of rocks, but it meant nothing. "I can't go to any of the temples in Eastgate. They'd know and it'd be used against me. The oracle would tell me what I wanted to hear. I can't have that. Not this time." His foot brushed against the pile of rocks and a few fell away.

From the canopy of trees, birds burst into the sky. Both Gavin and Douglas flinched from the sudden noise as dozens of large black birds took flight. They stood motionless, searching the trees. The angry cawing of the birds faded. Douglas held his spear in both hands, Gavin braced his shield and held his sword close to his body. Both men did not speak, but moved so their backs were to one another.

After a few minutes of quiet both men relaxed enough to speak. Gavin said something about birds and how he hated them. Douglas looked around, it was different. He searched the details. The trees were closer, the branches thicker, lower, tangled with vines. The stone pile was now scattered skulls, cracked and broken with a layer of lichen.

"What the..." Douglas saw Gavin standing over the skulls. "Gavin, get the hell out there."

Gavin looked to his friend, saw he pointed at his feet and looked down. He saw the skulls scattered on the forest floor and knelt to look at them closer. "Mountain magic." He picked up one of the skulls, looked it over then tossed it to the ground again.

Douglas flinched when the skull hit the ground and rolled down hill. "Damn Gavin, have some respect. These Corron have primal magic that make the guilds of Eastgate nervous."

"I'll not be frightened by skulls or stories of their magics."

"Your bravery is noted, but it boarders on a fool's sense." Douglas saw Gavin was standing on a worn path that wound through the trees. "You've found a the trail you were looking for. Your clumsy footwork has finally served you. Well done." He pointed toward the opening in the tangled trees. "Shall we?"

Gavin took the lead. He kept his sword close and moved through the trees slowly. The vines and branches brushed across his shoulders and back. The trees crowded together blocking out much of the sunlight. Gavin saw his breath escape from his mouth.

Up ahead he saw movement. "Do you bring the torches?" he asked Douglas without looking back. He kept his eyes locked on the anomaly ahead of them.

Douglas lit the torch and held it over Gavin's head. His hand became tangled in the vines. When he moved his hand away the vines tightened around his wrist, but he kept hold of the torch as he dropped his spear to grab for his dagger.

"If the skull's eyes watch you, you're safe." Gavin repeated to himself as the torchlight bathed the ground in front of them.

Skulls were stacked together in a makeshift barrier. Gavin saw a basket hanging in a tree. We walked past the skulls making sure to keep the eyes upon him. He reached into his pack and retrieved the dead bird Janon had given him and placed it in the basket.

With some effort Douglas cut through the vine that wrapped around his wrist. His face covered in sweat and the panic on his face was obvious. He moved to stand by Gavin, more skulls, basket with a dead bird, he was very far from the comforts and luxury of Eastgate. He shivered from the cold.

"Now what?" Douglas asked. "Dead bird in a basket. Nice touch."

"I don't know. Janon said to put the bird in the basket. I didn't think to ask what to do next." Gavin sheathed his sword and grabbed the torch from Douglas. He tried to see beyond the skulls, but there more trees. The path ended here.

"I'm cold. I'm building a fire and I'm going to use the damn vines." Douglas said and then went about cutting off the hanging vines. Before too long he had a small fire going. It did little fight off the chill. "You never told me what you needed to ask the augur."

"I know." Gavin planted the torch in the ground near the basket to free his hand for his sword. He kept searching for the dark treeline for movement. Damned if he was about to become someone's stew without a fight.

A shock of pain struck his arm. He lost strength in his hand and his sword fell to the forest floor. He struggled against the pain. He threw down his shield to grab his arm just above is elbow.

"What's wrong?" Douglas quickly stood and checked on his friend. He expected to find an arrow sticking out of Gavin's arm. Nothing. It was then he smelled the faint scent of magic. A sickly sour scent of decay. The manipulation of entropy. He brought his spear to bear and sensed someone, something by the basket.

The torch flickered. The flame decreased slowly until it vanished. The campfire had also gone out. Darkness. Gavin on the ground fighting off the pain in his arm. Douglas kneeling next to his friend waiting.

The faintest glow of light came from the forest behind the skulls. It grew bright enough to blend shadows into the dark places. Sitting on the ground behind the skulls was a cowled form. Douglas caught himself, the urge to run was strong.

Don't Go Past the Skulls or Hillfolk of Spoke Top Hill

"Hidden on Spoke Top Hill is a tribe of hillfolk. Corrons, is what they call themselves. They pay no fealty to a lord, never have. Some say they were born of the hills themselves. Lords and ladies leave them be. Probably best. They've got bad magic." Janon looked to over his young drinking companion, a fairly intelligent boy, maybe man, but that has yet to be determined, shiny armor, shiny shield, with the inevitable old sword that probably his father or uncle gave him.

"I hope you have more information for me." The would-be adventure said. Impatient and quick to anger.

Janon shook his finger at the boy. "This won't do. You lead with your stupid and your arrogance. If you go up on that hill demanding answers you won't come back. No matter how strong you are, that bad magic puts even a wise old man, like myself, to my knees. Why would you want to leave a warm tavern and frothy ale to disturb hillfolk that would rather put you in a stew than talk to you?"

"They eat people?" His horrified expression escaped before he had a chance to cover it.

Janon waved his cup around. "That's one of the things they say. Eat the meat, use the skins." He leaned in to whisper and for effect. "They skin ya while you're still breathing, easier to do I hear." Leaning back, "I didn't catch your name the first time, once you said ale I didn't hear word after."

"Gavin. Gavin of Pelumbra. Son of..."

"Gavin is good enough. The rest don't mean much here. So Gavin, what brings you and your shiny armor and shiny shield to our quiet town. You seriously thinking of climbing Spoke Top and stirring up the Corrons?"

Gavin's large adam's apple slid down and he nervously swallowed. "I've need of their augur."

"Do you now? I don't need an augur to tell me if you go past the skulls you'll make a fine meal."

"What skulls?"

"They nest skulls of their victims in the trees that border what is considered their land. It's easy. If the skull's eyes watch you, you're safe. See the back of the skull and you'll be dead before sunrise." Janon finished the last sip of ale. He looked tired and still coated from the day's work on the fields.

Gavin stood. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I did everything but stick a knife in your back." Janon put his hand in his satchel and pulled out a dead bird and offered it to Gavin. "Find a basket. I can't tell you where it'll  be, but find it. Put the bird in it and wait. Don't go past the skulls." He looked at Gavin the boy and shook his head. "I'm not fooling when I say they have bad magic. Offer the bird and wait. One of them may come talk to you. One may not."

A searing pain struck Gavin in his right arm. He grabbed his muscle with his left hand and checked if he was bleeding. He found nothing and as quickly as the pain struck, it vanished.

Janon shook his head as he stood to leave. He point a dirt covered finger at Gavin's arm. "That's a warning. They know you're coming."

Reimagining of an Iconic D&D Monster: The Goblin

My offering into the James Maliszewski call to share what we've done with these critters to make them our own.

The one monster I changed the most was the Goblin.  These guys have as many depictions as any monster, from the vicious minions of Saruman, in the Lord of the Rings to the Dobby in Harry Potter.  I know Dogby is described as a house elf, but you know and I know he's a goblin. *see comment with Sean about the banker goblins*

The goblins in my campaign are a cultureless race.  They have no god they collectively worship.  They have no customs or traditions they carry on from generation to generation.  They are a blank slate.  But masters of imitation.  Goblins search for another race to learn from.  Goblins will worship the same god and celebrate the same holidays and social occasions.    They will build a shanty town near the other race's settlement and it will imitate the village or town's layout. 

The imitation is never quite correct and often comical in its execution.  Goblins will take up the worship of local gods, but often will change the name that is more familiar with their language.  They will also create mock up of the refined wear priests and acolytes wear.  If your religion requires the acolytes to wear a plain brown robe you can be sure you'll be seeing a group of acolyte goblins donning burlap bags or potato sacks.  Though they may miss the mark with their imitation, Goblins are very respectful and honor the local gods. 

Though not many races like having goblins around underfoot, they are very useful.  Goblins are also masters of salvaging.  When a goblin settlement is nearby the sanitation increases because the goblins go through all that is tossed out, organize it and use what they can destroy the rest.  Large cities usually have a goblin settlement nearby so their 'city dump' doesn't become a problem.  The goblins also keep the rat population down.  Goblins hunt the rats for food.  The other benefit of having goblins nearby is they are a source of cheap labor and never complain about doing the horrible jobs.  Most large cities employ several teams of goblins to keep the sewers clear.

On very rare occasions when a goblin community is being abused or systematically slaughtered the community as a whole can go into 'goblin rage'.  When a goblin community final enters goblin rage they have gone feral and will attack any living thing with a berserker rage.  These are the wild goblins adventurers encounter in the wilderness.  They live to kill at this point and nothing more.  Should a goblin infected with goblin rage enter a docile goblin community, the rage will spread and within a few hours all goblins within the community will be infected.  No alchemical or magical solution has been found to cure goblin rage.

As a whole, goblins a passive race, but once in a great while an extraordinary goblin will rise above his peers and make a significant contribution; some have become elders in their church, some hold minor positions in the local government and a more than a few have become successful merchants.  Although they may never be generals or bishops or kings, goblins do not dream of power they are motivated by learning.  Though they are limited with what they learn they never stop trying to become better.  They also are protective of the friends they make and have been known to sacrifice themselves to aid the hosting community. 

Campaign Cultures

In most fantasy RPGs skills, advantages and disadvantages are decided by race. Where this is helps define a race it doesn't take into account the various cultures within a race. AD&D made an attempt at it with the elves and somewhat with the halflings, but the difference were found in the Monster Manual not in the PBH. In the PBH it states, "Elven players characters are always considered to be high elves" so they try to eliminate the option of being an aquatic (you never know), drow, gray or wood elf. At least you find a something that separates the different elven cultures.

Halflings also had three cultural variants, the hairfeet, tallfellow and stout halflings. There is only one sentence in the PHB that mentions a cultural variant "...halflings of mixed type and those of pure Stoutish blood are able to note if a passage is an up or down grade 75% of the time and determine direction 50% of the time." Exciting stuff. It's always good to know which way you will roll when you fall down.

Cultural relevancy adds depth to a campaign above the surface racial benefits. I've had to fortune of being a player in Rob Conley's Majestic Wilderlands for twenty some years. This is where I learned to appreciate the cultural differences. What better place than City-State to have a melting pot. To be effective in Rob's world you better know the differences in the cultures. What one might consider to be an honor another may consider it a grievous insult. Cultural tension plays a huge part in who the characters are and the situations they get into.

A small scale sandbox campaign tend to be homogeneous and probably should considering the scale, but to add a small population of same race, different culture there is built in tension on many levels. There will be tension based on strength, moral fiber, different religions (or again they could be worshipping the same god, but very different aspects) and political.

Example. You have a simple group of farming villages run by a local lord. The lord's land lies on the frontier of the kingdom and have no buffer between them and the uncivilized lands. To the north are several tribes of hill barbarians. Their tribes are not large, usually made of two to six families. The hill barbarians battle with one another quite often, over hunting land, a perceived sign of disrespect or because it was Monday and they were cranky. The farmers view the barbarians as savage and uncivilized (the definition of a barbarian). But the farmers need the barbarians because they enjoy killing all the horrible creatures that pop out of the wilderness that wants to gobble them up. Most of the leaders of the tribes trade furs and other items for food. They are barbarians, but know not to plunder the villages. They need the extra food source during the winter months and know storming the lord's fortified keep would be futile. But the barbarians consider themselves superior and the farmers weak and cowardice. They brave the wild and fear no creature.

When developing a character for this setting the skill set would be drastically different if the PC came from the lord's hall or a barbarian tribe. It's good to develop a template for each 'culture' so they PCs will have a skeleton of skills based on which culture they have chosen to be from. So being human is much more than being able to be any class at any level. Being an elf is more than wise tree dwellers. And dwarves can be more than grump miners. Every culture developed within the race adds a new depth to a campaign that the players can explore and find something new each time they sit down around the table.