Topic: Lands of Old (Campaign: Scratching the Cover)

[PiXeL01]

HookThe lands are covered in ruins. Some are surrounded by mysteries while others are secretly visited by the Folk.
The old Crones talk in hushed voices about how the Folk once ruled the lands guided by the Old Gods and our mighty lords.
The armies of the Folk went forth and wagon train upon wagon train came back with spoils, fattening the lands and satisfying the hunger of altars of the Old Gods with sacrifice both living and not.
As the Folk went forth their faces changed as new members were welcomed among the Folk. The armies changed with faces of the Folk as did how spoils were gained. During the greatest Age of the Folk among them all shapes and sizes could be found.

Slowly the wagon trains dwindled replaced with words of defeat, and the Folk that returned were broken. First the North grew barren, then the East grew fruitless.
The Crones sought the wisdom of the Old Gods but were met with silence. Folk now laid themselves on the altars it was said but still the Gods would not answer.

The Host descended on the Folk. Their shining armies carved through the lands of the Folk, and wherever the Host sunk their radiant banners into the soil and their songs praising their New Gods the Old Gods were cast down. Idols were destroyed, those gifted by the Old Gods were dragged to the pyres, and the altars and standing stones tumbled. “The Old Gods must be abandoned for the good of the Folk” spoke the tales of the speakers of the Host.

The main body of the Host travelled deeper into the lands of the Folk but left behind some of its kin to keep the Old Gods from resurfacing.

In the shadows the Crones still talk of the Old Gods, sacrificing, and teaching the young the ways of the Old Gods. The Crones send the young into the lands seeking the ways to banish the Host and restore the Old Gods.

…

You are one such youth. You grew up under the waving banner of the Host by day, averting your eyes from their kin, and listening to the stories of the Crones by night.
The whispers of the Old Gods will guide you to glory …

[PiXeL01]

Myth of Creation - Folk

During the first long night Dæo willed itself into Creation. It was the first spark of life, rolling through the heaven, consuming what may lay in its path.
Soon Dæo grew bored and created the Stars to dance before its eyes to tell tales of the present and future through their twinkling lights and ever changing constellations. Dæo loved the Stars and swam among them whispering secrets, inspiring their stories, and enjoying the plays they enacted. Those in his favor he granted phenomenal powers, those found wanting were smothered or feed to his favorites as for Dæo to grow stagnant was to fail.

But Dæo was not satisfied. The Stars were either too obedient or predictable. Their arena was also too small and monotonous. Dæo willed Matter into Creation and molded It. Dæo broke off parts of itself and added them to its newest toy, and as it labored excess Matter was scattered throughout Creation and took various forms. Dæo’s first creation was a sphere of cold, lifeless Earth made from its bones. Dæo then pulled from its blood and made Water to soften Earth, call upon the first Life, and bring an end to thirst. From the remains the Elements of Earth and Water sprang into Creation.
Knowing the food and water was not enough Dæo gathered many of its first Stars that had grown dim, crushed them together to form the lifegiving sun out of Light and Fire to circle the sphere, and soon more Life sprang from Earth and told new tales. Of the remains the Elements of Light and Fire sprang into Creation. Dark and Ice soon followed from the places Light and Fire could not reach, bringing Life to a stop, often an end.

Dæo was content for a time and loved its newest storyteller. It watched Life on the sphere as Life kept showing it new tales.
Soon, however, Life had no new stories to tell as it could not change without Dæo’s direct intervention. Dæo then blew on the sphere and created Wind to force Life to mingle. The element of Wind sprang from the remains.
Dæo then tore out an eye and sent it to orbit around the sphere as Dæo wanted to watch more stories at once, creating Moon. Like Wind Moon would pull at Life as it passes causing further changes and new stories to tell.

Dæo watched the sphere for millennia. Life sprang from Earth, drank from Water, matured from Light & Fire, endured or perished under Dark and Ice, and was mingled and changed by Wind and Moon. Chaos sprang into Creation from the eternal ballet of Life and Dæo saw in Chaos its first true offspring and was sated. Dæo withdrew from Creation to rest, letting Chaos reign on the sphere with Moon watching above.

With Dæo sleeping and Chaos playing, slowly the Elements woke. They grew jealous of Chaos and wanted the sphere for themselves. Slowly the elements grew ever closer to the sphere from other parts of Creation, hoping to take the sphere, but whenever an Element struck, Chaos would jump the protect its toy.
At first, Moon hung distant as a silent observer but as the fighting grew fiercer, Moon grew worried. Moon liked to toy and change Life as much as Chaos and could at times even manipulate Chaos to change Life to its liking. Moon couldn’t let the Elements take the sphere and joined the fight besides Chaos.
Soon all Elements converged on the sphere in an eternal battle for dominance. Chaos and Moon were the first to call upon the strongest of Life to fight against the Elements. These are our Heroes and Heroines. Some grew strong enough to become our Gods.
But Life could easily be tempted and beings were seduced. The Elements tricked some of Life to fight for them, creating Champions of their own.

Even now the battle rages. Normally, each Element is greedy, wanting the sphere all for Itself. But at times the Elements forges allegiances, spawning greater threats. And thus the Host is our greatest enemy, a pawn on the Elements.

But fear not, for Chaos still reigns on the sphere, choosing new Heroes and Heroines who may one day grow into Gods and throw back the Element once and for all.

[PiXeL01]

People of the Folk
Folk (North Men)
Hardy people of human stock. Used to toil and struggle. Their youth was spent learning the ways of the Old Gods from the Crones while farming the lands and seeking the treasures of nature. Having matured they would join the armies heading towards claiming spoils and glory in the lands of the North and East. Those who returned who again toil the Lands and raise children for the armies to come.

The Folk live in homesteads and rural villages centered around a small town with a market ruled by a chieftain. Councils of Crone used to pass down the Will of the Old Gods.

There are rumors of Folk living the forests of the Seedlings able to assume the shapes of Beasts, tearing enemies to pieces. These Folk were considered guardians of the Folk and the Lands of the Old. Some tales even speak of such joining the venturing armies.
There are also tales of Folk when the tradition of taking their children into the forest and leave them there for a timeto better connect with the Lands, the Old Gods, and those who dwell in the forest.

Seedlings (Wood Elves)
Having always dwelled in the Lands of Old, observing the coming of the Folk and their connection to the Lands, the Seedlings were always on friendly terms with the Folk, trading goods and knowledge for the betterment of both people. When the first armies left the Lands of Old some Seedlings joined out of curiosity.
Seedlings are elves, born in the forest and have a much stronger connection to the Lands within they dwell than the Folk.

Harbingers (Dark Elves)
Once thought to be among the strongest within the armies of the Folk, considered to be the Chosen of the Old Gods and Bearers of their Will, the Harbingers are now a hunted people. The Ordained of the Host actively seek to slay these elves whenever one is discovered as the belief is the Harbingers were the catalyst that spurred the armies of the Folk onwards along with the words of the Crones.

The Seeded (Half Elves D)
The Seeded are the result of unions between Folk and Seedlings in the Lands of Old. The Seeded tend to grow up with the people of their mother, never quite fitting in, but never shunned either, they were among the greatest of observers and philosophers.

The Rugged (Greater Orcs)
These tusked nomads were encountered by the Folk early during the conquests of the Folk. Leading a life as both nomadic peaceful herders and fearsome raiders, the Rugged easily joined the armies of the Folk venturing North and East.
The Rugged are creatures of extremes. When traveling with their herds they are domicile, but when defending their homes or as part of the armies they make the fiercest of warriors.

The Touched (Half Orcs)
Similar to the Seeded the Touched are the results of a union between the Folk and the Rugged. Yet where the Seeded are at peace in either world, the Touched caught between two. When among the Folk, a fire burns within them to wander with the herds or let the rage consume them. But when among the Rugged the constant wandering leaves them uneasy.
Hoping to eventually find peace, the Touched are wanderers on the edges, always welcome, but unable to settle.

Host
Mixed Men
High Men
Grey Elves
Half Elves (Grey/High/Mixed)

[PiXeL01]

Scratching the Surface - story 1

Moya ran panicking through the forest crutching the figurines her mother had shoved into her arms and told her to run deep into the forest and not look back.
He could hear the yells of the soldiers in yellow calling her to stop and the trashing sound of the undergrowth being torn by the pursuing soldiers.
Moya did not know how long she had been running. She only knew getting caught would mean a fate worse than death. Directions didn’t matter, all she knew she had to go deeper.

The soldiers had finally come for the Crone and everyone else who had heard the stories of Old, were practicing the traditions of preparing to go North and East, and the families of Folk who sent their children into the Forests alone for a month at the age of ten.
They would take the Crone and her family away! They would burn them all at the market in their Father’s name!

Tears were streaming down Moya’s cheeks, her heart hammering away in her throat, and every breath was a huffing scream.
She was no longer alone. The yells seem far away but out of the corner of her eye she saw a shape diving through the trees, matching her speed and direction. Not knowing whether it was a dog the soldiers brought, a bear, boar or other wild beast, Moya dove into the underwood in the opposite direction. The twigs and thorns grabbed at her clothing and hair, tearing at her skin. She fell hard onto dirt, and figurines of the Beast, the Moon Lady, and other Old Gods flew from her grasp.
Moya got to her senses quickly and tries to gather up all she had dropped when she heard it, the deep continuous growl just ahead of her. She could feel the hot breath on the top of her head making the hairs of her neck stand. Slowly she looked up and stared straight into the yellow eyes of the biggest wolf she had ever laid eyes on. The teeth were bared and thick drops of saliva fell to the forest floor as the wolf licked its teeth widening its grin. She screamed and clinched her eyes shut.

Just then a soldier thrust himself through the bushes behind Moya. He saw only the little girl, lifting the contraption in his arms just as the wolf lunged. First she heard a thud as the contraption fired, a yelp from the wolf then thrashing and the scream of a man being ripped apart.
More yells, howls, and screams joined the first as fighting erupted all around her. More than once was she knocked to the side, struck, or felt sticky liquid splash against the side of her screaming face.

Then there was silence. Moya slowly opened her eyes and looked around. The bushes around her were sprayed with blood, her figurines had been trampled into the dirt, and from the way she had come a pair of twitching legs stuck out from the bushes.

Moya tried to wipe her face as new tears streamed down her face but the red sticky substance would not go away.
In her panicked state she scrambled to pick up the shattered figurines and soon felt a hand on her shoulder. She tensed then heard the smoothing words “Moya, you’re safe now”. Relaxing she turned to face her savior. He was naked, with an arrow slowly being evicted from his chest and eyes as yellow as the wolf’s.

[PiXeL01]

In the stories of the Old Gods and the heroes who won glory and renown in the East and North there are many artifacts, mostly weapons or armor that the heroes to do legendary feats. These stories were told to the children of the Folk, growing them East and North as they came of age, but also told by people the Folk came upon. As it is with stories, with each telling the story grows making the heroes capable of even more incredible feats of strength, brilliance and magic.
Some of these artifacts are gifted by the Old Gods themselves to aid the heroes against their enemies, while others were ordinary items that slowly became enchanted as the legend of the hero grew, suddenly allowing weapon to cut through armor as if warm butter, burst into icy flames, or cover an area in darkness.
If a young character found an artifact, all its abilities would be locked away until the character had proving himself. As the character grows stronger abilities would be unlocked as a pace determined by the Gods.
Also, if a young character has a treasured item that carried them through thick and thin, this item might suddenly grow more durable or start to possess strange abilities again determined by the Gods in terms of strength etc.

The Blade of C’Tomrin
Powers (unlocked in stages as the wielder’s renown grows):
(Always or gradually starting from +10) +35 Bastard Sword
I - Fogvision True, mass (1 target per level of wielder)
II - Fog True
III - Extra Cold (same severity) and Electricity (one severity lower) on melee
IV - Darkfire Arc (90 degree, 20’ cone)
V - Darkfire Bolt, 300’

Deep in the forests of Elkskow in the Land of the Folk an old Crone studied the young group awaiting the word of the Old Gods or Ancestral Spirits. Already these three had done much to bring the Old Gods back and banish the choking hordes of the Host from the local Lands. Chief among their accomplishments was the recovery of the Blade of C’Tomrin from its resting place. The warrior L’soom was found worthy of wielding the artifact as she like songspun C’Tomrin was a powerful woman talented in leading the Folk.

Many stories had been told about the Blade but none about its making or how it fell into the hands of its wielder, who had many tales than then Blade.
C’Tomrin herself had like so many before her left the Lands of the Folk to join with the armies and send back stories of glory praising the Old Gods and wagon trains of goods.
After a few decades of traveling in the North over which many wagon trains were sent back in her glory, she returned to the Lands of the Folk unmained to settle and raise the Folk who would follow in her footsteps.
It is said she lived long enough to see all of the children of her children don the armor, take up their arms, and set off for their own to bring glory to the Old Gods. On the day the youngest left C’Tomrin had taken down the Blade from the wall and ventured into the Forest of Elkskow, never to be seen again. The Crones had said she had heard the Calling of the Old Gods yet again needing her elsewhere.

C’Tomrin had quickly risen through the ranks of the Folk in the North. Once one leader a new was chosen by the Chosen of the Old Gods through sacrifice and communion with the Gods. Soon she was the leader of a band, then as a chieftain of band leaders, to finally on a night under the Sleeping Eye of the new moon be chosen as one of the two to lead this army.
The Chosen Folk saw this as a sign to split the army with each leader taking those willing to follow into new areas for goods. One half continued north while C’Tomrin turned South East hearing a Call. For months she travelled without, her army growing restless as the pickings where few, just enough to keep the army marching but little to send back. She spurred her warriors on with tales of her visions further to the South and East where no Folk had set foot before and finally they found it on the far side a mighty forest.

“The forest was hazardous,
“filled with beasts of two-four-six legs or more, “and flesh eating plants,
“oh horrors to be sure.

“But C’Tomrin took control of the fogs,
“Yielding a Blade of Frost and Light,
“She slew, tamed, and found allies
for what was in store.”

[EltonJ]

It looks like you did a good job of this.

[PiXeL01]

Thank you. I’m still in the planning phases to be honest, haven’t played yet.

My first adventure would actually be for the adventures to retrieve the before mentioned blade.
Over all the campaign would be to push the Host out of the local area and then we’ll see.

[PiXeL01]

The Folk (Human - RMU)
+2 Constitution
+1 Empathy
+2 strength
-1 Presence

Tough II (base hits 35)
Physical Resistance II (+10 physical resistance)
Talent Development Points: 28

A hard people, shaped by their culture and environment. As preteens their parents abandon their young in the woods to be molded by the beasts, Crones, and the Wild for a few months.
In past times the young adults would join the armies seeking riches and glory in other lands and those who survived would join the trains of spoils heading back to the lands of old. Then they make families and raise the next generation of folk traveling east and north … but that was before the host brought the folk to their knees