I am going to be running a 4th Edition D&D Game in a couple of weeks. Right now, the game is just going to be a trial run of the rules and a filler sort of game since our regular Pathfinder game is on hold. I hope, however, that folks like it enough to make it a regular campaign at some point in the future. Here’s the brief introduction I wrote for the players:
You are all gathered into the Town Hall of Westford along with perhaps 70 other people — men, women, dwarves, halflings, even a dragonborn or two stand out in the crowd. Some you recognize. There’s Mayor Whitfast, standing at the edge of the small stage. There’s Onyx Crandal, the dwarven captain of the town guard. In a darkened corner is a man who must be Baerd, a noted ranger and trapper who wanders up and down the river. Are all of these men part of the Expedition? You were told there were only going to be 40. Surely some must be simply curious. There’s no way that Porthos, that fat priest of Erathis, is going West.
A tall, well dressed man moves to the center of the stage. His clothes mark him as a nobleman, likely from Navan. But his boots are worn, as is the grip on his jeweled-hilted blade. He looks like a man who can handle himself. This is Brandin Merriwether, one of the leaders of the Expedition.
He looks out over the assembled crowd and speaks in a voice that is used to command: “I see that the efforts to keep some degree of discretion were for naught,” he says as he flashes the Mayor an annoyed glance. “No matter. The town ofWestford ought to know what is happening beyond the river.” He pauses slightly, as if gathering force for his words. “As all of you know,Westford sits at the Western edge of The Kingdom of Lienster, ruled these six years by his Majesty, King Thomas the First. Beyond the river Moy ,” here he gestures with his left arm, toward the broad river that lies on the edge of town, “lies what some of you call the Trackless Forrest. Others call it the Darkwood. Whatever you call it, few of you have ever set foot on the Western banks of the Moy, much less ventured beyond it’s floodplain into the deeper forest.” Here, Brandin’s eyes linger for a moment on Baerd.
“That’s ’cause it’s cursed, ye silly silverbooted noble!” someone shouts from the crowd. Brandin looks like he’s about to reply, but then another man takes the stage. This one you don’t recognize, but he’s tall, with a close cropped beard, salt and pepper hair, and a crimson robe.
“How right you are, commoner!” his voice booms across the hall, silencing all other speech. “Or, to be precise, how right you were. I am Corvallis, third apprentice to Jaheris , High Wizard to his Majesty Thomas the First. And, the land across the river was cursed, by magic more powerful than you could ever imagine. You see, what you call theDarkwood was once known as Tigana, and was the ancient home of the Elvish kind.”
More murmurs at this. Elves? Really? Most of these folks had never seen an elf in their life. Many, no doubt, thought them creatures of myth.
“That’s right. For thousands of years, Tigana was the pinnacle of elvish civilization. Then, for reasons we do not know, their civilization began to fade. There were wars with evil, certainly. Or perhaps they were simply tired of this world and retreated into the Feywild. But before they were all gone, they banded together to invoke a ritual of such tremendous power, it’s like has never been cast again. We simply call it the Ritual of Forgetting. For what it did was prevent anyone who enteredTigana from remembering where they had been. Some wandered out, but could not tell anyone where they had been. Others were simply lost in the forest. Soon, people stopped even trying to find their way. The name Tigana became lost to legend, the forest came to be thought haunted and evil, and the elves were mostly forgotten, which was what they had intended.”
“As best we can tell, the Ritual of Forgetting was cast perhaps 200 years ago, not so long in the life of an elf, but many human generations. Other creatures, fell and dangerous, began to overtake the forest and elven lands. I’m told you have had some kobold raids here in Westford.”
Many in the audience nod. A few spit curses onto the floor.
“For whatever reason, the Ritual of Forgetting has begun to fade. Travel into Tigana is likely possible again. While some lingering and unpredictable ritual effects perhaps remain, the magic that has guarded this land has subsided to the point where an expedition into Tigana is possible. His Majesty believes such an expedition is necessary.”
Wait. Did he say “likely possible”? You were told this was simply exploring an unknown land. No one said anything about ancient elvish curses.
Merriwether steps forward again. “King Thomas believes that now is the time to send an expedition into Tigana. The purpose of the expedition is to map this unknown land, establish contact with any elves or other civilized races who now reside there for the purpose of friendship and trade, and retrieve any useful knowledge left behind by the departed elves.”
Hmm. . . he said “knowledge”, but you no doubt picture stacks of elvish coins and shiny gems.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the King wishes me to convey how important this expedition is to our great kingdom. Not only do we have the potential to expand our border westward, advancing civilization and keeping evil forces at bay, but we have reason to believe that Cadiz and possibly Vostaad are sending forces into what was once Tigana . If they gain trade or powerful magics as the result of their expeditions, then the security of our Kingdom could be threatened. The 40 of you who have been selected for this expedition are doing a great service to King and Country. History will remember you!”
You hear someone mutter “if that curse doesn’t cause everyone to forget.”
“The Expedition will depart in a fortnight. Prior to that however, I have a special duty for some of you who have signed on. The rest of you go about your duties and rest while you can. I need the following people to see me now.”
You just knew he was going to call out your name.
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