Years ago, Azulgund was lost to Goldbane Greasetooth and his greenskin hordes. Its people were forced to abandon the city. In their wake, the elf ranger Khulorien “volunteered” to plumb the depths in their name, claiming he would return with Greasetooth’s head or not at all. Of course, only the most naive believed Khulorien – an egotist and rogue, even for a ranger – was doing this for honour!
Since it was released, I’ve run and played a fair few games of Chris McDowall’s Into the Odd. It’s fast, simple, and the rules for character creation are probably my favourite out of any RPG. In fact, I’ve played enough games to warrant making an easy reference document merging the basic rules with some of my own ideas – namely what I use to quickly run games in my own setting.
“There were twelve of us, at first. They got Leland, his wound wouldn’t stop bleeding. He kept keening, like a dying pig. Swarund put him out of his misery, but his wailing was enough to signal more. They came from the dark. They howled like dogs and smelled of copper. I would swear the one that got my leg used to be our lighter-boy. Now I sit and wait. When the wind blows, I hear their distant howls. I will not be kept waiting long, I think.”
The giants were dead, victims of their own barbaric hungers. In time, the men of the northern mountains uncovered their legacy. They used their spells and relics to raise the dead, corrupt the living and bind the souls of free men. So began the reign of the Kang Admi, the first necromancers, whose very name is a byword for unspeakable sin.
The lady Mirka was the daughter of a mountain farmer, born into servitude during the heyday of the necromancer’s dread reign. It’s not known why their magic did not work on her. Strength of faith? Natural immunity? Or a skill, self taught and hard earned through years of oppression? Whatever the source, when she came of age she learned to share her power with her tribe. They became known as the first templars of Mirka, and with each victory, more of the undead were scourged from the land.
A quaint farmstead of wood and old iron, surrounded by rotting wheat. You might come here investigating strange tales of witches up to no good, or the cursed wheat getting up at night and terrorising the neighbourhood.KurskDownload
Where is it?
The hinterland region of Mirkasa, a few leagues north of the Umberto border. From Nosjad city, you’d travel for about a week through a dozen or more backwoods and villages, until the cold forests give way to rolling farmland. From the Malachite mines, you’d have to cross the breadth of the Iron wastes and likely contend with one or more Templars once you crossed the border.
Everyone knows the magi council can’t give sage advice, because they are power-hungry, incestuous and cunning.
So when the young caliph needs an honest answer, he asks a wazir.
When the caliph asked “why do the tarpits of Rhamdesh still bubble, even after so long in the summer sun?” seventeen wazirs went to find the answer. Only one returned, but was rewarded with all the riches of his fellows.
Named for a pub in Oxford where Tolkien and a few friends used to meet for a book club – I’ve re-purposed it as a meeting place and ‘secret’ award for some of Chalcedon’s more eccentric inventors!The Child and EagleDownload
(These ideas were originally meant to fit in Vectis 1769, but I ran out of space & time last month. I’m glad I had the chance to come back to them.) Enjoy!