The peerless Edjet is the backbone of the mighty Dragon Empire’s military. These brutal warriors are trained to fight in deadly formations. Hardy and resolute, the Edjet are most commonly dragonkin, but lesser races sometimes surprise their scaled masters by aspiring to draconic perfection.

Welcome, friend, to the world of Midgard. Maybe you’re brand new to this world. Or maybe you’ve been around since the beginning. Either way, stay—all are welcome! Please, sit and listen to the tales. You see, the world has been changing, and oh, the sights to see. It’s a living, evolving realm where things happen after all. So why shouldn’t it have a life all it’s own? Where to start…

[From the Midgard Heroes Handbook…]

EDJET FIGHTING

Beginning when you choose this archetype at 3rd level, when you wield a versatile weapon and a shield at the same time, you can use the versatile damage rating of your weapon as if you wielded it in two hands.

WEAPON SWEEP

Starting at 7th level, while you’re wielding a shield and a versatile weapon, you can use the Attack action to make a wide, sweeping attack. Make a Shove attempt against a creature within reach. If you knock the creature prone or push it away, you can immediately make another Shove against a different creature within reach. You can Shove up to three creatures in this manner. After using this ability twice, you must complete a short or long rest before using it again.

DRACONIC RECOVERY

At 10th level, when you finish a short rest, you can choose to tap into a reserve of draconic vitality. For each hit die you spend at the end of this rest, add double your Constitution modifier to the number of hit points regained. Also, remove one level of exhaustion for each hit die you spent. You can’t use this ability again until you finish a long rest.

DRACONIC BULWARK

Starting at 15th level, when a creature you can see hits you with an attack while you are wielding a shield, you can use your reaction to add your proficiency bonus to your AC against that attack. Additionally, when an ally within 5 feet of you is affected by an effect that allows a Dexterity saving throw for half damage, you can use your reaction to grant the ally advantage on the saving throw.

DRACONIC FURY

At 18th level, when you successfully Shove a creature with your Weapon Sweep, you also deal damage as if you hit the creature with your weapon.

___

But this is where we must stop for now, my friend. My mind, it wanders so at times. Do come see me again, though, for more of the wonders and surprises of Midgard.

You can continue on this adventure in the Midgard Worldbook and Midgard Heroes Handbook.

<<PREVIOUSLY

Every once in a while, an unexpected hero rises from obscurity—the burrowling. These furry folk hail from a region known as the Wasted West. Should you find yourself in their land, be watchful. They detest violent encounters and hate goblins. However, a pleasant meeting may lead to intriguing friendships. These small and unlikely heroes rarely find themselves in harm’s way, but sometimes, one of them leaves their home to explore the world beyond their hundred holes in the ground. Their journey might begin with a tale passed down through generations of a long-ago adventurer who came through trading tales for food, spurring a wanderlust. Or they might be driven by a strong desire to protect their home from goblins.

Social Life: Burrowlings are communal creatures, generally living out their short, natural lives within the confines of their small settlements. Those few traveling far from home may become extremely homesick, falling into a depression and sorrow that could lead to their death. But sometimes, they find new homes, new friends, and eventually call them family, restoring their love of life.

Description: Burrowlings are small, tan-furred creatures with fluffy tails that hang just above the ground. Their black razor-sharp claws can be deadly if an opponent is caught off guard.

Burrowling Traits

Ability Score Increase: Your Dexterity score increases by 2, and your Wisdom score increases by 1.

Age: You have a very short life span as a burrowling typically lives only up to 15 years.

Alignment: Your life is one of security and protection of your homestead. You value living among family and tend to stay away from other races, especially considering where you are from. However, your view on the world is not of hostility. (Burrowlings are generally Lawful Neutral.)

Languages: Common, plus one other language of your choice.

Size: You are approximately 2 feet tall and weigh no more than 25 pounds. Your size is small.

Skills: Perception, Survival

Speed: You are a small creature and have a walking speed of 30 feet.

Weapon Proficiencies: Sling

***

Burrow Awareness: Once you reach 2nd level, you have spent enough time with a group of individuals to consider them your allies. You gain advantage on Perception checks if at least one burrowling or ally is awake within 10 feet.

Darkvision: You are used to dim light and darkness. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light and in darkness as if it were dim light. You cannot discern color in darkness, only shades of grey.

Natural Attacks: As an action, you may make one melee attack either with your claws or your bite.

Claw: Melee Weapon Attack: reach 5 feet, one target. Your attacks deal 1d6 slashing damage.
Bite: Melee Weapon Attack: reach 5 feet, one target. Your attacks deal 1d6 piercing damage.

Pack Tactics: Once you reach 3rd level, you have advantage on attack rolls when your target is adjacent to at least one other ally.

<<PREVIOUSLY

(click image for larger map)

For 4th-level characters

All the children are tucked away in their dormitories as Headmistress Galentha Kavezhen makes her final rounds about the quiet castle of Academiae Caustiz.

The blood sister of the Order of Rosy Salvation pauses outside the doorway of the chapel to Marena—formerly the castle’s sanctuary to Wotan—and tries to shed the unease swirling within herself. Her task was straightforward, maintain this boarding school on the outskirts of Tannenbirg, indoctrinating the students as Princess Hristina prescribes.

Straightforward, that is, until her review of the school’s records showed that one of the children was enrolled under an alias to protect his identity. A wise choice even before Krakova fell to Hristina and her Ghost Knights. Had Kavezhen been in the same position as the child’s parents, she would have done the same.

Kavezhen sighs. Tola—Kritorov Walerska, she corrects herself—is such a bright boy, one adjusting to the new routine and curriculum imposed by the blood sisters. The ethical conundrum over what to do next confounds her. Each of her roles in their society of blood and death—headmistress, priestess, vampire lord’s subject—are in conflict.

Her rounds take her to the colonnaded courtyard. She looks out over the fog-enshrouded hedge maze. One thing is for certain: they will come for the boy. Again, it’s what she would do. And she must prepare to repel them. Because it is what she must do.

Location: Chateau Caustiz, on the outskirts of Tannenbirg, Krakovar.

Lore: Queen Urzula, living in exile with her court in neighboring Dornig, has learned that a young cousin of the royal family survived the ghoul invasion and resides under an assumed name at the boarding school. She employs adventurers to mount a rescue, destroy the school’s admission records, if possible, and help other children to escape too.

Objective: Roll d20 for Kritorov’s location at time of the raid: Day, 1–3 arithmetic and geometry lecture hall, 4–6 chapel for philosophy and theology, 7–9 grammar and rhetoric, 9–12 music, 13–15 etiquette and manners, 16–17 library, 18–20 dining hall-commons; Night, 1–4 dining hall-commons, 5–8 physical fitness (maze), 9–20 boys’ dormitory.

Castle grounds: Rhodimir, a ghost knight (Tome of Beasts), patrols the perimeter; determine location with a d8 compass roll. A swarm of ravens roosts near the maze, constructed over a former cemetery. A wormhearted suffragan (Tome of Beasts) wanders the maze at night seeking worthy souls to corrupt.

Entrances to the Chateau. Each entrance has a skeleton guardian, two if it is a double door. They attack anyone who does not speak a password, which is a mantra of obedience to the goddess Marena (DC 15 Intelligence/Religion check). All outer doors are unlocked.

North tower: Four floors built around a central tower stair. The ground floor has a human guard, the second floor is the dormitory for staff (two cooks, a secretary and a custodian, all commoners*), the third floor is the dormitory for 40 boys, and the fourth floor is an astronomy observation deck.

South tower: Four floors built around a central tower stair. The ground floor is a lounge for the faculty and has a human guard. The second floor is faculty dorms, the third floor is the dorm for 40 girls, and the fourth floor is the headmistress’ room.

Common room/dining hall: Flue, an ash drake (Tome of Beasts), is the school mascot and resides in the hall’s fireplace. He mostly scolds students whom he finds breaking curfew, but will defend his home against intruders.

Library: In addition to a red sister serving as archivist, there are two library automatons maintaining the stacks that will defense the premises.

Hallways: Baristow, a black knight commander (Tome of Beasts), patrols the halls. In addition to himself, there are four veterans on patrol within the castle.

Chapel: Sashidra, a cult fanatic, teaches philosophy and theology and, as chaplain, conducts services.

Classrooms: A red sister each teaches mathematics, grammar and rhetoric, music, and etiquette and manners, to in classrooms of 20 students during the day. Each red sister is a cultist.

Administration: Yezineski, a darakhul (Tome of Beasts), performs the duties of dean during the day, then roams the hallways restlessly at night. Kavezhen, a priest**, is headmistress. Her admission records are in a wall safe (DC 15 Dexterity check). She keeps the key on her.

Vampire option: As the PCs conduct their raid, a contingent arrives from the fortress at Tannenbirg. The authorities learned from spies that a member of Krakovar’s royal line is in residence. The leader of the force of 12 guards, the vampire spawn Dobromira, commands that the child be produced immediately (Dobromira doesn’t know its gender nor its name—the bluff is a test of Kavezhen’s loyalty).

Kavezhen’s reaction could determine the course of the encounter for the PCs. Her devotion to her god and her vocation might win out over her loyalty to her vampire masters.

She makes a Wisdom check (her bonus is +3) on a d20.

With a result of 3–14, she asserts her authority as headmistress and demands the vampire spawn remove itself from the premises, calling upon her red sisters as reinforcements. She must then win an opposed Wisdom check against the vampire spawn. If Kavezhen wins, the vampire spawn leaves to get more instruction from her masters, if the vampire spawn wins, they fight.

On 15–16, Kavezhen feigns ignorance of this matter, but steps aside to allow the vampire spawn to search the premises. Kavezhen convincingly suggests they start in the girls dormitory, then secretly sends an ally to fetch the boy, escort him outside the castle and release him, praying he can make a break for the border.

On a 17–18, she also feigns ignorance but agrees to help the vampire spawn search.

On a 19, she gives herself away, standing helplessly as the vampire spawn brushes past, swearing she will deal with such disloyalty later.

On a 20, she gives herself away and attacks.

If a battle ensues, the red sisters come to Kavezhen’s aid. The darakhul Yezineski makes himself scarce. The ghost knight sides with the vampire. The black knight commander and his veterans will side with whomever seems to have the upper hand.

*For flavor, use the Haunted Villager background charts on Pages 110–111 of Midgard Heroes Handbook to determine each of the NPC commoners’ personality, ideals, bonds or flaws, if the PCs have the occasion to interact with them.

**Kavezhen is a priest of the Red Goddess, Marena. Her spell list: Cantrips (0 slots) resistance, sacred flame, thaumaturgy; 1st (4 slots), longstrider, thorn whip, command, inflict wounds; 2nd (3 slots) hold person, silence, zone of truth; 3rd (2 slots) blood of wrath (from Midgard Heroes Handbook), see invisibility.

<<PREVIOUSLY

Troy E. Taylor writes about dungeon mastering for GnomeStew and his blog The Dungeon Delver. He lives in central Illinois with his wife, a motorcycle-riding librarian, and their three children.

Bemmea perches on an isolated granite base connected to the mainland at low tide by a long sliver of land. The mages of Bemmea don’t reveal when the tide changes, since their mastery of the elements is complete and entry into the city by land controlled by their whims. By the standards of most Midgard cities, Bemmea is tiny in circumference but towers from ancient foundations to rise to nearimpossible heights. The peninsula is all that remains of a much larger ancient city smashed by the Isonade hundreds of years ago. Winding streets reach ever upward, hosting all manner of fraternal houses, academies, dormitories, institutes of private tutelage, lodges, and laboratories. The remains of towers still protrude from the waves, making for an unsuitable harbor but still used by several mage colleges, accessible either by bridges or magic.

[From the Midgard Worldbook]

Bemmea

Bemmea hosts a cloistered community of eldritch masters, hopeful apprentices, and those who serve them. Visitors are discouraged, and many natives actively disdain nonspellcasters. Colleges of magic such as the Academies Arcana or the Librarium Caelmarath are offlimits to anyone not a teacher, visiting lecturer, or student. Knowledge and secrets are the primary currencies, and the citizens guard both well. Travelers are surprised by the lack of a militia or town guard, only to discover to their horror that the city doesn’t need them. Water elementals emerge from pools, fountains, and gutters, while cobblestone elementals rumble up from the streets to subdue criminals. Visitors remark that “every torch is watching,” and it might not be far from the truth.

Apart from such disturbances, Bemmea is not overtly fantastic at first glance. Soaring bridges connecting high spires-within-spires are incredible architecture rather than magical constructs. Even the city’s mighty hesitate to obviously display power, though the occasional animated carriage, flying carpet, or plodding shield guardian helps mages make their way through the city. The characteristic ozone scent of Allain is noticeably stronger here, and it stings the nostrils of those unused to it. Only from high above do the intricately curved, glyph-shaped streets, the anchors for the city’s powerful ley lines, becomes clear.

Commerce in Bemmea primarily supports the competing academies, their staff, and students. Though rumors of vast markets of magical goods are unfounded, magic can be acquired cheaply when one knows where to look. Most bargains consist of apprentice magic, class projects, and poorly graded graduate experiments. Rumors persist of dark markets deep in the flooded bowels of the city, where buyers can procure experimental cast-offs, stolen magic, and mostly functioning golems. No one is sure how these goods escape the prying eyes of divining authorities to reach the markets, but buyers must take care both in their acquisitions and in revealing their purchases.

Though not encouraged, travelers can find several reasonable options for rooms and hospitality. Popular taverns include the Elves-in-Irons and the Skull Bowl, and safe lodging can be found at the Great Old Oven as well as the Mortar ‘n’ Pestle. Outsiders should choose their bed and board carefully, lest they attract the wrong kind of attention or find themselves caught in a bitter fraternity feud.

Academies Arcana

Bemmea houses dozens of arcane academies, from the sprawling campus of the council-run Academies Arcana to small, private classrooms and single-student tutors like those of Blackspike or Hightower. Most students begin academic life between ages 12 and 14, and they can apprentice for up to a decade. During the first lean and unsatisfying years, students perform meaningless chores that might or might not profit them in later arcane study, depending as much on the apprentice’s mindset as the instructor. Promising or particularly bright students quickly rise above such endeavors and soon move to private studies to discover their talents and inclinations. Students commonly transfer from tutor to tutor to find acceptance or a mentor in their specialty.

Student life varies but is mostly a tedious academic affair with long periods in quiet libraries among musty tomes only rarely punctuated by hands-on application. Due to the power of Bemmea’s ley lines, student spellcasting is strictly monitored by master mages and their assistants. Public displays of power are discouraged, and rivalries among students require the utmost discretion. The Ninemage Council would rather see a promising child dead than expelled with incomplete and dangerous knowledge. There are exceptions to these dry and quiet rules. Jacen the Paper Master, for example, lectures his students on busy street corners, mystifying onlookers with his control of lifelike paper constructs.

Many students stay in Bemmea to become master mages, researchers, or artificers. Facilities such as the Planteria Observatorium, a huge indoor orrery that tracks the shifting constellations, or the Invisible Halls, the academy of glamours accessible only by those granted charms by the dean, attract life-long students who seek to hone their craft in a familiar environment. The Librarium Caelmarath always needs more magical scribes and translators in the endless effort to organize its vast holdings. Residents enjoy a busy social season, with exclusive lodges, fraternities, secret societies, and other distractions. Such organizations include the mysterious Obscured, the Guild of Honest Inkers and Sanctioned Sigilists, the Sons of Vael Turog, the Church Arcane and Universal, and the pranksters of the Affiliation of Unaffiliated Wizards.

For those interested in leaving Bemmea’s hallowed halls, entry into the fraternity of arcanists can occur in as little as a decade; their title is “master mage” if they are accepted into the guild, “apprentice” or “journeyman mage” for those who continue their studies. Most newly minted mages find themselves thrust into the open world with a handshake and little else by the age of 25, several years older than colleagues who sought open roads and dark dungeons instead of formal education. Master mages in good standing find that their teachers, fellow apprentices, and librarians leave open opportunities for them to return to Bemmea, but these offers rarely last beyond a few years. Bemmea’s powerful know how swiftly those who pursue dangerous knowledge outside the magocracy’s institutions can rise in power, and no one wants to encourage potential competition…

___

But this is where we must stop for now, my friend. My mind, it wanders so at times. Do come see me again, though, for more of the wonders and surprises of Midgard.

You can continue on this adventure in the Midgard Worldbook and Midgard Heroes Handbook.

<<PREVIOUSLY

A journey facilitator such as myself puts faith in his senses but never fully trusts them. Reality isn’t always what you see and hear. Often times, feelings convey a truer understanding of the world around us than our tangible perceptions. An inexplicable hunch, an unnerving tingling, or a stray hair standing on end can sometimes tell me more than the most intrusive tactile examination. Fortunately for me, my instincts came to my rescue on more than one occasion, most importantly during an excursion into the foreboding Ironcrag Mountains.

Entry Four—Into the Clouds

Before setting foot into the soaring peaks, a seasoned mountaineer in our company told me, “Every trip into the mountains demands preparation, and even then, the unexpected awaits.” After my harrowing experience, I wish to amend the preceding statement by adding, “Gear and equipment can get you up the mountain, but wits and perseverance get you over it.”

Our first test of endurance came when we crossed through the clouds. At first, the symptoms were subtle—swollen faces, weary legs, and mild disorientation. Yet these small signs were the telltale hallmarks of altitude sickness. (See my notes at the end of this journal for more details regarding altitude sickness.) To make our situation more distressing, decreasing air temperatures accompanied the declining oxygen levels. The air not only grew thinner, it also got colder. On average, each 1,000 feet of elevation lowers air temperatures by roughly 3° Fahrenheit (1° Celsius for each 180 meters of elevation).

The ravages of deprivation, both in oxygen and warmth, forced some of our company back down, leaving the hardiest souls, myself included, to continue the laborious trudge up the steep slope. After several long, grueling hours, we reached our goal—a well-worn pass at the nadir of two neighboring peaks. There, we encountered a bedraggled, elderly man sporting a long, gray beard while cloaked in heavy furs. The strange fellow feverishly begged us for aid, asking for a morsel of food, a swig of alcohol, and a clean blanket. Some of our lot took pity on the odd chap, who they dismissed as a wayward mountaineer or a starving hermit driven mad by the thin air. However, something about the curious man’s demeanor and strange predicament filled me with unease. Perhaps an unusual mannerism or ill-timed comment instinctually prompted me to retrieve my magical spectacles from my coat pocket and view this individual in a different light. (See my notes at the end of this journal page for more details regarding the spectacles of true form.)

The veneer of a feeble old man instantly faded, replaced by a clawed fiend clad in a sickening amalgamation of stitched tissue and flesh. The horrifying sight left me aghast. The creature, known as a stuhac, seized upon my bewilderment and launched a savage attack against me and my companions. The wicked monstrosity lashed out at us, sometimes with its savage claws and hideous bite while on other occasions it mysteriously shredded our muscles from afar. After a pitched battle costing several lives, we repelled the hideous monster. Stung by our arrows and blades, especially my trusty werewolf blade, the stuhac fled deeper into the mountains and out of our sight. (See my notes at the end of this journal page for more details regarding the werewolf blade.) Fearful of resting upon our laurels for too long, we made haste down the mountain, hoping to outrun the creature before it returned for an unwanted rematch. Fortunately for us, our efforts paid dividends. With more oxygen surging through our lungs during our descent, we hurriedly left the Ironcrag Mountains and its resident stuhac far behind us for the remainder of our journey.

Altitude Sickness

The air high atop a mountain peak is considerably thinner than it is at sea level. The decreased oxygen levels take a significant toll on living creatures. When a creature starts its day or first ascends to an altitude of 6,000 feet and every 6,000 feet thereafter, the creature must succeed on a DC 10 Constitution saving throw or suffer one level of exhaustion at the end of the day for each increment of 6,000 feet. (Therefore, a failed saving throw at 15,000 feet causes the creature to suffer two levels of exhaustion.) If the creature succeeds at three consecutive Constitution saving throws plus one for each increment above 6,000 feet, the creature becomes acclimated to that altitude and no longer has to attempt Constitution saving throws while it remains within that altitude band. Likewise, creatures indigenous to mountain regions are automatically acclimated at any altitude less than 12,000 feet. At 18,000 feet and above, all creatures including acclimated ones suffer disadvantage on their Constitution saving throws against altitude sickness. At 30,000 feet and above, the creature suffers half as many levels of exhaustion on a successful saving throw as it would on a failed saving throw. Undead, constructs, and creatures that do not breathe are immune to altitude sickness.

Spectacles of True Form

Wondrous item, uncommon (requires attunement)

These eyeglasses have opaque crystallized lenses set inside a wire-rimmed frame. When you use an action while wearing the spectacles, you perceive the original form of a shapechanger or a creature transformed by magic that you can see. In addition, you automatically detect visual illusions affecting creatures that you can see and succeed on saving throws against them. These effects last for 1 minute. The spectacles can’t be used this way again until the next dawn.

Werewolf Blade

Weapon (any sword), rare (requires attunement)

You gain a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon. Werewolf hunters originally forged these steel blades, though they prove equally effective against all shapechangers. When you hit a shapechanger with an attack using this magic weapon, it must succeed on a DC 15 Constitution saving throw. On a failed save, the target loses control over its shapechanger ability. It can’t take reactions and at the beginning of its next turn and all turns thereafter it must use its action to polymorph into form other than its current form, which is randomly determined if it has two or more choices. At the end of each of its turns, an affected target can make a Constitution saving throw. If it succeeds, this effect ends for the target. A shapechanger who makes a successful Constitution saving throw is immune to the effect for the next 24 hours.

<<PREVIOUSLY

Yes, it’s true! I have travelled far up the rivers that flow through the Arbonesse—all the way to the River Court. There I was taken on a tour of the place before being seated for dinner with the king himself, that secret keeper, Ulorian the First! Here, sit, I will recall my time there for you so that you might decide if such a trip is in your interest.

—Nenmaas Goodloaf (halfling of House Aunun)

Members of the Court

The River Court is the last foothold of the elves in Midgard. Tucked away in the great forest of Arbonesse, the court’s population comprises a few elves, many elfmarked, halflings, and a growing number of aquatic humanoids of various types. It is this last contingent of the court that makes it unique among the kingdoms of Midgard, for nowhere else are the waterborne fey so welcome as in King Ulorian’s Court.

The farms around Ulorian’s castle are simple affairs and serve as home to most of the court’s halflings as well as a number of elfmarked. The fields are well irrigated, and it’s common for small aquatic fey to travel up the canals and make their homes in their banks—even assisting with the harvest when time.

Darker things also dwell in the court. Creatures whose natural abilities lie in the domain of subterfuge and spying. King Ulorian welcomes these creatures as subjects, and it’s through them that he maintains advantage over his enemies and allies alike.

The Five Spires of the River Court

The spires of the court are simply stunning. They are surprisingly hard to see from the nearby forest, a fact I must attribute to the magic of the place. Though why his majesty would wish to hide these splendors is beyond me! Alabaster white with golden trim, they rise like majestic fingers pointing to the stars. Each is built upon some important edifice, and I’m told there are chambers at the tops—though no one would tell me what is kept there…

A Note on Architecture

The River Court is built both within the river Neurabon and on its saturated banks. The castle, with its towers and water gates, is built in the middle of the river, and a thick foam builds at the base of its walls where the swift water meets the stone. Entrance to the castle is made either through a gate facing upstream or via a heavily guarded walkway from shore.

The spires of the River Court are built near the castle. All of the spires, save for the Spire of Baccho, can be reached by water—even the library in the Spire of Memory is partially submerged.

The interiors of the buildings of the River Court are designed to offer comfort to those aquatic fey who live there. Many chambers are partially submerged, and their walls drip with cool condensation. Despite being lavishly decorated with polished river stones, gilded archways, and beautiful hanging water plants (that bloom eternally in the presence of King Ulorian), the buildings of the River Court are cold and wet and uncomfortable to those not suited to the water.

Spire of Currents

The Spire of Currents is built upon the elves’ primary woodworking workshop. Though the crafters produce mundane goods such as furniture and tableware, the workshop is chiefly known for its production of river barges. The crafters are led by Uynitia Boughbender, an elfmarked woman whose arms were maimed in battle and replaced with magical wooden facsimiles that move at her command.

The workshop at the base of the spire opens onto the river where old and damaged barges are delivered and new ones set afloat. Despite the labor transpiring in the workshop, a meditative silence is all that can be heard, though occasionally songs or laughter drift from the gate.

The spire is accessible via the workshop, but its doors are locked and warded against simple magic. Only Uynitia has the key to the spire, which she keeps on a silver chain around her neck at all times. The spire reaches three hundred feet into the air and has a single windowless staircase that rises from the workshop to its peak.

The topmost chamber of the spire is a small room painted in gold. It has a round window that faces south and is framed in rough-cut pieces of wood from the forest. In the center of the room is the broken prow of the first riverboat built by the Court. Broken and splintered, the boat yet contains powerful elvish magic. Several simple pillows sit on the floor around the prow, and those who sit there are filled with visions depicting elvish wood crafting techniques. To be invited to sit with the broken prow is a high honor.

Spire of Memory

The River Court’s principal library is built near the castle and is commonly referred to as the Spire of Memory. It consists of three main chambers connected by short, highly decorated corridors. The chambers are well lit by beautiful and magical stained-glass windows whose animated scenes depict the history of the court. The library is managed by three elven scholars (Nilia, Sarion, and Fenn) who oversee a small staff of elfmarked and halfling workers.

The library has representatives who travel throughout Midgard searching for books to add to the spire’s impressive collection. These representatives are mostly elfmarked scholars accompanied by well-paid mercenaries. The scholars of the River Court are often found combing through old ruins in pursuit of lost knowledge.

The three chambers of the spire are heavily guarded, and access to the stairs leading to its top is restricted to the three head librarians. A spiraling staircase leads from one of the library’s chambers to the top of the spire. The spire rises two hundred feet, and the walls along this staircase are covered in elvish writing: poems, ballads, expressions—all written in the same steady silver script.

The topmost chamber of the Spire of Memories contains a simple bookshelf filled with the rarest and most magical tomes kept by the River Court. Only those who have earned the favor of the court may hope to open these rarest of books.

Spire of Unity

Though the River Court’s population is small (estimated around 3,800), it’s surprisingly varied. Elves, elfmarked, halflings, and all manner of fey (especially aquatic) all live together peacefully. Though the court’s reputation suggests it is the home of exiles and outsiders, those who dwell within its limits are far from hermits living lives of solitude. The Spire of Unity consists of a grand feast hall. Half the hall is submerged in the cold water of the river while the other half sits on sturdy stone. A wooden common table runs through the hall—one end dips into the water. Chairs made from curved driftwood line the tables.

For those subjects of the court who prefer their meals cooked, as opposed to raw and fresh from the river, a stone stove sits at the dry end of the hall. It is said that the bones from fish cooked on the stove regrow their flesh when cast in the river, so it is common to see piles of such bones in the watery portion of the hall after a large feast.

Spire of Baccho

This spire is built upon a large wine-storage vault dug deep under the riverbank’s wet, clay-filled soil. The vault has two dimly lit chambers connected by a short corridor and tasting room. Ornately carved wooden storage racks form aisles and line the walls of both chambers. One chamber is for wines that have aged up to sixty years while the other chamber is reserved for vintages bottled as far back as two hundred years. The entrance to the wine vault is heavily guarded due to the large amount of enchanted wine stored inside.

The spire is accessed via a spiraling staircase built atop the entrance to the vault. It rises for a hundred feet above the ground and is topped by a small chamber magically locked and warded. Inside the top chamber, which is windowless and kept cool by permanent spells, is a glass display case containing a few grapes from the very first harvest by the elves of the River Court. The grapes are said to be blessed by Baccho and possess powerful magic.

Spire of Charun

This tallest spire in the River Court is the Spire of Charun. It sits upon the temple of Charun, a large boat-shaped building made from dressed stone and finely carved wood. The temple resembles a river barge with its primary entrance in the aft section and the altar placed near the prow. Wooden benches, carved with depictions of the Boatman ushering the elves to and from the heavens, form rows along the length of the main chamber. Windows, shaped like ornate lanterns, line the walls allowing muted light into the space.

The spire is accessed behind the altar via a spiraling staircase lit with sacred lanterns. It rises two hundred feet above the temple to a worshipping space reserved for special ceremonies. Few have been allowed to enter the top of the spire, and those who have do not speak of it. Rumors that it contains a portal capable of accessing every plane of existence are unsubstantiated…

___

Read more of this and other great articles in Warlock, only on Patreon!

The terrible outline of something noxiously thin and bat-winged descends silently from above—a faceless black being with smooth, whale-like skin and horns that curve toward each other. Its barbed tail lashes needlessly as it clutches the air with ugly prehensile paws.

Nightgaunt

Silent Malevolence. Nightgaunts never speak or smile, having only a suggestive blankness where a face ought to be. The beating of a nightgaunt’s membranous wings makes no sound; nor does the tickling grasp of its cold, rubbery paws.

Nightmare Servitors. These mindless aberrations are creations of an elder god of the Great Abyss, who wages inter‑dimensional war with various gods and horrors of the Outer Void. Nightgaunts serve as the advance guard and battle steeds of the ghouls that inhabit the darkest corners of the Shadow Realm and realms of pure dream and fancy. On occasion, they ally themselves with humans and the forces of light against greater chaos and particularly hated demon lords. Such alliances last only so long as is necessary to restore the rule of law and burn out all corruption from a place. Once this is accomplished, they sometimes leave, satisfied in their work, and other times remain to attack the wounded forces of good.

Void Traveler. The nightgaunt doesn’t require air, food, drink, or ambient pressure.

NIGHTGAUNT

Large aberration, lawful evil
Armor Class 17 (natural armor)
Hit Points 142 (15d10 + 60)
Speed 20 ft., fly 60 ft.

STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
18 (+4)	17 (+3)	18 (+4)	4 (-3)	16 (+3)	16 (+3)

Saving Throws Str +8, Con +8, Wis +7, Cha +7
Skills Athletics +8, Intimidation +7, Perception +7, Stealth +11
Damage Resistances bludgeoning, necrotic
Condition Immunities blinded, frightened
Senses blindsight 120 ft., passive Perception 17
Languages understands Common, Abyssal, and Void Speech, but can’t speak
Challenge 10 (5,900 XP)

Flyby. The nightgaunt doesn’t provoke an opportunity attack when it flies out of an enemy’s reach.

Pack Tactics. The nightgaunt has advantage on attack rolls against a creature if at least one of the nightgaunt’s allies is within 5 feet of the creature and the ally isn’t incapacitated.

Magic Resistance. The nightgaunt has advantage on saving throws against spells and other magical effects.

Utterly Silent. The nightgaunt doesn’t make a sound and has advantage on Dexterity (Stealth) checks.

ACTIONS

Multiattack. The nightgaunt can use its Baneful Presence. It then makes three attacks: two with its clutching claws and one with its barbed tail. If the nightgaunt is grappling a creature, it can use its barbed tail one additional time.

Clutching Claws. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 13 (2d8 + 4) slashing damage, and the target is grappled (escape DC 16) if it is a Medium or smaller creature. Until this grapple ends, the target is restrained. The nightgaunt has two claws, each of which can grapple only one target. While using a claw to grapple, the nightgaunt can’t use that claw to attack.

Barbed Tail. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 8 (1d8 + 4) piercing damage plus 10 (3d6) poison damage.

Baneful Presence. Each creature of the nightgaunt’s choice that is within 30 feet of the nightgaunt and aware of it must succeed on a DC 16 Wisdom saving throw or have disadvantage on all attack rolls and saving throws for 1 minute. A creature can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on itself on a success. If a creature’s saving throw is successful or the effect ends for it, the creature is immune to the nightgaunt’s Baneful Presence for the next 24 hours.

Find this and more monsters in the Creature Codex and Creature Codex Pawns!

The core rules provide options for cultists and cult leaders but few options for other members of an occult organization. In particular, those who have sworn pacts to gain magical power are sorely underrepresented.

Warlock NPCs

This article presents two new NPCs to help develop and fill out the membership and leadership of a profane sect. Cabalists are the newest recruits in a cult, inexperienced and disposable. Heralds are an organization’s active recruiters, working with higher-ranking cult members to keep the group’s ranks filled.

The entries are presented in the same monster format as other entries in the SRD.

Note, the NPCs below both list the creature’s race as humanoid, but often the most compelling stories come when you deviate from the rules. Imagine the power a cult might wield if its herald was a harpy, using its luring song to draw in recruits. Imagine the surprise members would feel if a medusa, fresh from a pact with a powerful fey lord, supplicates itself to the cult leadership in its quest to gain power or pursue revenge.

Cabalist

Medium Humanoid (any race), any alignment
Armor Class 10
Hit Points 9 (2d8)
Speed 30 ft.

STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
10 (+0)	10 (+0)	10 (+0)	10 (+0)	10 (+0)	14 (+2)

Saving Throws: Charisma +4, Wisdom +2
Skills Deception +4, Religion +2
Senses Passive Perception 10
Languages Any one language (usually Common)
Challenge 1/2 (100 XP)

Spellcasting. The cabalist is a 1st-level spellcaster. Its spellcasting ability is Charisma (spell save DC 12, +4 to hit with spell attacks). It has two 1st-level spell slots, which it regains after finishing a short or long rest, and knows the following warlock spells:

Cantrips (at will): chill touch, eldritch blast
1st level: burning hands, hellish rebuke

Actions

Sickle. Melee weapon attack: +2 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target.

Hit: 2 (1d4) slashing damage

Cabalists are the newest recruits to a cult, and have just begun to taste the power of their patron. They perform various ceremonial duties for higher-ranking members, but also run the risk of being sacrificed by those they support.

Herald

Medium Humanoid (any race), any alignment
Armor Class 14 (studded leather)
Hit Points 33 (6d8 +6)
Speed 30 ft.

STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
11 (+0)	14 (+0)	12 (+1)	10 (+0)	12 (+1)	16 (+3)

Saving Throws: Charisma +7, Wisdom +5
Skills Deception +5, Intimidation +5, Religion +3
Senses Passive Perception 11
Languages Any one language (usually Common)
Challenge 2 (450 XP)

Devil’s Sight: The herald can see normally in darkness, both magical and nonmagical, to a distance of 120 feet.

Mask of Many Faces: The herald can cast disguise self at will, without expending a spell slot.

Spellcasting. The herald is a 4th-level spellcaster. Its spellcasting ability is Charisma (spell save DC 13, +5 to hit with spell attacks). It has two 2nd-level spell slots, which it regains after finishing a short or long rest, and knows the following warlock spells:

Cantrips (at will): chill touch, eldritch blast, mage hand
1st level: burning hands, hellish rebuke
2nd level: darkness, scorching ray, suggestion

Actions

Scimitar. Melee weapon attack: +4 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target.

Hit: 5 (1d6+2) slashing damage

Heralds are typically part of a cult’s leadership and recruiting arm. Their highest priority is to bring in new members, often preying on the insecure and unwary. They generally try to keep their true identities secret so they can move throughout society unknown.

Cult Activity gives you a cult-driven set piece: location, background, hooks, everything you need to build your own adventures in Midgard.

Strass was lost. Surrounded on three sides by towering stone walls, he groaned in frustration and looked to his two companions. Val and Azreal stood nearby, arguing over a crudely drawn map. Taking out his axe, Strass felt the comforting weight in his hands. He smiled as he imagined using it on Faldren the deceiver.

Welcome to the table. This week, the adventurers followed their nemesis through a labyrinthine ruin. During their hunt, I planned to introduce information that would both increase the tension in the game and present a new challenge to the players. I was going to present a scene happening away from the characters—giving the players information but not their characters. Today, let’s talk about giving players metanarrative information.

What is metanarrative information? How can it affect the game? When should metanarrative moments be used?

Moving away from their most recent dead end, Val, Strass, and Azreal wandered through the endless labyrinth. As they walked, the only indication of time passing was the steadily dwindling number of torches the adventurers carried. Each room appeared exactly the same and each hallway seemed a mirror to ones the adventurers traversed before. After coming to their twentieth dead end, they made camp, reviewing their map and contemplating their next options.

Metanarrative is information that players know about the story and plot that their in-game characters do not. Metanarrative information is those aspects of the story that go unseen by the characters but that are influential to the plot. To give an example, the players may be negotiating with a local guild master. Little do the players know, but only an hour before, the guild master was blackmailed by the local thieves’ guild and has orders to impede the players. The players may never discover that the guild master was blackmailed or may learn only a fraction of the details, but that earlier scene was important to defining the obstacles the characters face.

At the table, I hoped to introduce information that would increase tension and present a new obstacle for the players, showing that time was counting down and that the players could not rest or relax. To do this, I read the following paragraph aloud during a moment when they were relaxing and planning their next moves:

You all take a moment to pause, inspecting your surroundings and determining what to do next. Meanwhile, outside the grand labyrinth, a large carriage rolls up to the entrance driven by a powerfully built woman dressed in mercenary leathers. Reaching down, the woman knocks on the roof and the carriage door swings open to allow six figures, each similarly dressed in mercenary outfits to step from the carriage. As the group draw their weapons and begin to sharpen them, one figure crouches near the labyrinth entrance, inspecting the faint trail you all left behind. “They are in here,” the figure motions, and the group enters the shadowy structure.

Giving players information beyond what their characters would know requires caution from the GM. When giving players more information about the plot, GMs should try not to spoil surprises, break the game, or provide simple explanations. The information that I gave was intended to remind the players that there is more happening than just their adventure in the labyrinth and to increase the peril felt at the table.

Introducing information beyond what characters would normally know can be a great opportunity to inspire roleplaying and new tactics from players. After informing the players that a band of mercenaries were stalking them through the labyrinth, the players started making decisions faster, wondering whether each noise or event they triggered would result in their being discovered. Using this device helped enhance the narrative, as the players began to think about whether their nemesis had planned for players to be in the labyrinth along with a group of mercenaries.

Strass cocked his head at the sound of a distant noise. Memories of daggers in the dark and figures ravenous for his blood filled his mind. He gripped his axe more closely. He knew that noise. It was the sound of blade on blade, the sound a butcher makes when sharpening a dagger. Turning to his companions, Strass motioned for them to pick up the pace and be silent.

When picking metanarrative moments, focus on those that will enhance a single scene or narrative arc, but be careful in not revealing too much or substituting a metanarrative scene in place of simply using a plot hook. Metanarrative scenes can quickly become plot hooks, if the content within them point to new places for discovery. I recommend using these scenes only to enhance the current adventure or a single moment.

Introducing metanarrative information may cause players to utilize that information in ways that could alter the game or result in the players using the information to their advantage. Be aware that by using this method, you are intentionally cueing players to think about the metagame. I recommend having a conversation with them before and after your game to discuss whether they had fun. Also, this may prompt a great opportunity to talk about how players can separate character knowledge from player knowledge in effective ways.

This is only one example of how metanarrative moments can be shared. Below, I’ve noted a few other possible options for sharing information that players may not usually have control over or be aware of:

Creating a space for players to build the history of a town, city, community, or country before visiting. This could be done by providing possible choices for the players to pick from or provide key historical NPCs for the players to play during a side session.
Describe a scene from the viewpoint of a creature or character that is not the players. Perhaps from the viewpoint of local townsfolk or nearby animals. Doing this from the viewpoint of villains is usually the easiest and sets a clear tone for the scene as a whole.
Allow the players to play NPCs, creating a space for the characters to learn of that NPCs history, motivations and goals.

The adventurers knew they were being hunted now and it was only a matter of time before they were caught, cornered amid the dozens of false passages. Rounding a corner, Strass could make out the sounds of booted feet somewhere close by. Preparing himself for a fight, Strass let his companions pass by. Sparing a glance over his shoulder for them, Strass nearly dropped his axe in surprise. Before them, a half-broken bridge jutted out into an endless void, a brand new passage leading beyond the harrowing jump.

Let’s sum up:

Intentionally giving players more information beyond what their characters know can help enhance scenes and create moments for exciting roleplaying.
Giving metanarrative information requires careful thought behind what should be revealed and what shouldn’t.
There are many ways to make use of this device, enjoy brainstorming ideas with friends, fellow GMs, or players!

See you at the table!

<<PREVIOUSLY

Despite the fact, or perhaps because of the fact, that their land has been ruled by a singular leader for 400 years, the major families of Dornig are always looking for new blood. A hero who has a reputation for valor and is willing to swear fealty has a good shot of getting his or her own piece of land, a deed to a castle or country house, and a baronial title. This is a situation tailor-made for adventurers.

[From the Midgard Worldbook]

How to Acquire a Barony

The following conditions must be met for an individual to be awarded a fief in Dornig.

Human, elf, or elfmarked. The families prefer to expand their ranks with elves and elfmarked, but humans of good character are welcome. Other races probably need not apply. (There are no halfling or dwarf landed barons, though they might be awarded court appointments in the military when appropriate.) Tieflings, huginn, gnomes, minotaurs, gearforged, and other minor races are not considered suitable for the peerage.
Of sufficient experience. Level 10 or higher.
Renowned in Dornig. Feats of daring and power in the south might get an adventurer invited to the better parties, but won’t pay out with a title. Adventurers seeking to retire to a sweet barony and a life of ease discover that their previous work elsewhere matters little. Notoriety is not enough—they must accomplish great deeds locally. If you are using the optional Status ability score, this is easier to measure: the character must have a current Status of 20 or more to be awarded land.
Favor of a particular house or the Imperatrix. The crown and each of the major houses has a smattering of baronies available as a reward for loyal service. Helping a house (or the Imperatrix, via proxies) will fulfill that requirement, whether it involves recovery of an artifact, rescuing a clan scion, or preventing a particularly nasty scandal to gain merit in the eyes of a house. By the same token, such actions might irritate other factions.
Comeliness. A Charisma of 15 or higher is recommended. Other mitigating factors might come into play, but no new baron or baroness has a Charisma below 9. There are enough sad and average faces within the family trees already, and the clans are looking for compelling notables.

One thing missing from this list is money. Mere gold is not enough to gain a fief in Dornig, and profligate displays of wealth are regarded as gauche. It is good to have gold, but to show off that one has it is not done. One cannot simply stake out a claim and build a new castle from scratch—rather, one is awarded the honor of holding land and swearing fealty to the Imperatrix and her other vassals.

Also, baronies are awarded to individuals, not to groups. An adventuring party that is offered the opportunity to control a barony will have that offer made to one of its members, and that member is held responsible for the land as well as for the actions of his or her fellow adventurers when acting on behalf of that land.

The major houses and the Copper Sphinx Throne have baronies to give away for a number of reasons. The primary one is death of the previous vassal. Baronial awards are for the life of the holder and are not passed down to future generations without the Imperatrix’s consent. Usually such consent involves marrying into one of the families. New barons are regularly called upon to serve their liegelords by dealing with particularly thorny issues—after all, this is why the Dornig lords agreed to make them barons and baronesses in the first place.

Details of a Barony

A typical barony is relatively small—the borders of most can be seen from the baronial seat. It likely collects a regular income from its populace in the form of fish, tolls from river traffic, lumber, cattle, or mines of precious metal. The liege-lord (a mid-level member of one of the major families) takes the bulk of that, leaving enough for day-to-day entertainments in a comfortable style.

A castle, keep, or manor house on the property represents the baronial seat, controlled by a castellan appointed by the ruling family, who both keeps the books and an eye on the new baron. Wise barons stay on the good side of the castellan. Near the keep or manor house, the primary town of the barony operates through the offices of its mayor, council, and church leaders. They are relatively self-regulating as well, since a commoner in such pocket baronies can see a half-dozen barons over time. The locals expect protection from their liege in times of crisis.

The barony usually includes a gate that allows entry to the fey roads, and through it to the other towns, major and minor, of the realm. Such a gate is often located in the deepest part of the keep, under lock and with continual guards, but could be an archway in the garden, the door to a family crypt, a swinging gate in the middle of hedge maze, part of a folly set off from the main keep, or even a road or stream that appears to lead nowhere. Other paths and destinations are discovered by accompanying others. The castellan or one of his agents can walk the fey roads to Reywald, Hirschberg, and Bad Solitz, and any summons from the liege lords arrives by a messenger who can lead the summoned on the path back.

Losing a Barony

Barons can be sacked for failing to perform their duties. These duties include returning a modest profit on their lands, presenting themselves to the court, providing soldiers in times of conflict, and making their talents available for use by their liege-lord. Failure to do so results in a visit by official representatives of the crown, and the barony withdrawn. Those who still occupy the castle will be removed by magic, siege, or assassination. A baron or baroness found guilty of treason will be put to death in the traditional Dornig fashion (the skin flensed from the body, and the still-living criminal then burned at the stake).

Baronies can also be abandoned by the fief-holder, and depending on the circumstances, such resignations might be accepted with good grace or declared treason. Experiences vary depending on the situation…

___

But this is where we must stop for now, my friend. My mind, it wanders so at times. Do come see me again, though, for more of the wonders and surprises of Midgard.

You can continue on this adventure in the Midgard Worldbook and Midgard Heroes Handbook.

<<PREVIOUSLY

It’s September! So here’s a set of wallpapers for your computer, your smartphone, or whatever electronic device you’ve got. This month celebrates monsters with the cover from Creature Codex, by artist Craig Spearing.

Bring the monsters!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Please, click on the image you want to download to expand it into a downloadable image.

Dear Osvaud,

This is Osvaud. I think it’s time we started sharing our magical secrets.

Well, as we’ll get to here in a second, one wizard’s awe-inspiring power is another’s migraine waiting to happen. I’ll tackle each school of magic separately in coming pages, but first, let’s explain our general approach to spellcasting.

In my vast experience, while there are eight schools of magic, there are roughly three types of people with arcane power. Since we are already talking about the best of the best, it might seem foolhardy to draw distinctions. However, when you all have access to the gold standard of spellcasting, nuances matter more.

Spell selection, preparation, and technique separate the liches from the vampires.

(Also, we can shower without dying.)

The first group shoots for utility or overwhelming force. They might not necessarily lack imagination but rightly note some magic is vastly more efficient… if your goal is winning. These sort focus on big, straight-up murder-ey schools like evocation and necromancy. While we find this specific approach boring—as yet another blind date with a bone devil—we can’t exactly fault them. Every wise wizard eventually succumbs to the allure of fireball, and I’d look pretty freaking hypocritical if I started poo-pooing negative energy.

The second bunch is a bit more creative and subtle in approach. They might fall back on the old staples but prefer novel tricks… when they can get away with it. They specialize in schools like abjuration, divination, and enchantment. Maybe they’re counterspelling killjoys, mind-controlling masterminds, or they want to show all the divination-haters a vision of a future where their butts are soundly kicked.

They might not be quite as “dependable” as the first group, but they likewise aren’t nearly as predictable. I admire the second group as they end up with a nice blend of both approaches.

Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m remotely reasonable OR well-balanced.

The last category are the maniacal show-boaters who care less about being effective and more about style. They tend to not exactly think outside of the box… because they don’t realize there’s supposed to be one in the first place.

These bozos gravitate toward conjuration, illusion, and transmutation for the mind-bending versatility. You can’t know what to expect from the loons. They might shapechange into a rainbow of different dragons but use seeming to look like a giant, fire-breathing bunny. But wait… it was all a distraction for the teams of greater invisible vrocks performing an interpretative tap dance (of ruin)!

My personal attitude is clearly not the best… but it is the most fun. I think. For me, anyway. There’ve been many times we should’ve glassed everything from orbit. Usually, my goal is less a clean victory, and more being so completely oddball I force my enemies to question their sanity.

I guess… that’s a type of winning?

The point is, I’m sure nearly any other archmage stumbling onto this messy mix of untested theories and crazed nonsense would immediately find a bard to sing away the memories. In short… don’t go bragging about this crap at the next BBEG board meeting.

<<PREVIOUSLY

You can speak with machines and magical or mechanical constructs, and control constructs. Ultimately, you will become metal-graced by your deity.

[From the Midgard Heroes Handbook…]

(Note that this version of the clockwork domain is simplified from the version presented in the Kobold Press supplement Deep Magic: Clockwork. To maintain consistency and decrease confusion, we recommend using one or the other, but not both, in your campaign.)

CLOCKWORK DOMAIN SPELLS

1	grease, floating disk
3	heat metal, enlarge/reduce
5	conjure barrage, haste
7	fabricate, secret chest
9	animate objects, soulforging*

* See Chapter 1.

ACOLYTE OF ARTIFICE

When you choose this domain at 1st level, you learn the mage hand cantrip. You also gain proficiency with one of the following tool kits: carpenter’s tools, clockwork (jeweler’s) tools, mason’s tools, smith’s tools, or weaver’s tools. You also understand the language of machine speech but cannot speak it.

BONUS PROFICIENCY

You gain proficiency with heavy armor.

CHANNEL DIVINITY: FADE FROM FALSE EYES

Beginning at 2nd level, you can use your Channel Divinity to become invisible to constructs. Each construct that would normally detect you must make a successful Wisdom saving throw or lose track of you (you become undetectable by all its senses) for 1 round per cleric level. A construct might still infer your location if you knock over an object, open a door, or do something similar. The effect ends instantly for all constructs if you attack a construct or take any other action that is directly hostile to constructs.

CLOCKWORK COMPANION

At 6th level, you build or acquire a clockwork companion which functions in most ways as a ranger’s companion. Choose a construct that is no larger than Medium and that has a challenge rating of 1/4 or lower. (With your GM’s permission, you can substitute a construct version of a Small or Tiny beast of CR 1/4 or lower. You can adopt the clockwork jewel scarab stats block verbatim from the appendix, or use it as a guide to create your own.)

DIVINE STRIKE

At 8th level, you gain the ability to infuse your weapon strikes with divine energy. Once on each of your turns when you hit a creature with a weapon attack, you can cause the attack to deal an extra 1d8 lightning damage to the target. When you reach 14th level, the extra damage increases to 2d8.

METAL-GRACED

At 17th level, you evolve machinelike qualities. A thin coating of metal covers your back, torso, and appendages, granting you resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage from nonmagical weapons.

Also at 17th level, your deity reveals to you the secrets of creating a gearforged body. Provided you have access to the correct components, you can craft a gearforged body for yourself or another creature.

___

But this is where we must stop for now, my friend. My mind, it wanders so at times. Do come see me again, though, for more of the wonders and surprises of Midgard.

You can continue on this adventure in the Midgard Worldbook and Midgard Heroes Handbook.

<<PREVIOUSLY

Non-magical transportation in our fantasy RPGs is most likely by horse or horse-drawn cart. This makes it difficult to cover more than 30 miles in a day. Such a limitation may slow an adventuring party seeking far-off destinations, hinder industrial operations like mining or lumber harvest, or present a strategic weakness for a kingdom. There are ample reasons for a world to include a mode of transportation beyond traditional tamped earth or stone roadways. Such new modes can be as simple as a canal network or as complex as a railroad.

By Air

Rubberized-silk can hold gases and be used to lift a tethered load or be freed to follow the winds. Should this technology be included in your world, balloons can be ceremonial, such as for lifting imperial banners into the sunny breezes; practical, to carry cargo or people over an impassable ravine; or deadly, like dropping weapons onto the battlefield below. However, balloons can be punctured, exposing occupants or wares to the ills of falling. Balloons can engage in aerial melee too—with one township known to have employed several to combat a dragon by dangling hooked lines that tangled and restricted the beast’s flight.

Leaping over valleys and great rifts, aerial ropeways (cable cars) are especially advantageous in difficult terrain. Though expensive and complex, ropeways cover distances directly, free of the meandering riverbeds and valley floors preferred by road builders. Such systems have been used to move entire armies and mountains of silver and gold and require timber towers to support two ropes, one to carry the slung cargo or passenger carriers and the other to pull them. Because weight is spread over the entire system, each carrier can carry heavy loads. Curve stations, whereby carriers temporarily leave the carrying rope for curved rails, take the ropeway beyond linear courses, though add substantial cost to a system. Most aerial ropeways terminate at ports or are used in cities to bypass dense foot or cart traffic and are powered by large water wheels or great beasts. Aerial ropeways require constant maintenance and frequent replacement of fiber and leather ropes as, when climates are wet or freezing, these ropes tend to quickly decay. Metal chain or twisted wire ropeways are rare due to cost and technological limitations, though are more robust.

Giant eagles and pterodactyls can take transport into the clouds. Oft ridden bareback or saddled, structures can be attached to such animals for smaller folk and can become part of a land’s airborne commuter service (delays are inevitable and food and drink cost extra of course). There are other aerial creatures to be broken and exploited too.

By Land

Railways are also rare as they are extremely expensive and difficult to defend. However, there are applications for smaller systems, especially in industry. These systems are usually made of wood (including the rails) and are likely horse-drawn. However, some advanced societies employ steam or magic for propulsion. Scholars have noted the employment of iron rails in some railroads, often by dwarves as a part of their mining operations. One such system provides transport to gem miners and their equipment through a network of ancient lava tubes. Utilizing water power for traction and braking, the rail cars traveling downslope act in pendulum and counter-weight to those ascending, and it has become tradition to exchange candles, tools, and drink as the ascending and descending rail cars pass one another.

By Water

Safely crossing a river on a steady ferry or solid bridge is a worthy expense indeed. Goods and folk are ferried over wide swaths of river, and narrow boats can be hired to travel large distances of canal, river, or lake. However, ferry masters and rogue captains are usually informers beholden to the local realm and take note of all who pass, oft playing the fool in order to overhear loose talk. Some such folk offer information at the right price, though it is usually misinformation. Ferry rafts are poled across shallow, slow running rivers. However, in quicker, deeper waterways, they are assisted by guidelines and horses on either shore.

Some bridges are as simple as slabs laid in a river bed while others are feats of engineering, ironwork and masonry. Bridges only replace ferries where rivers run too rough and rapid or where the demands of passage and trade overwhelm the simple ferry rafts. Most bridges are small and can tolerate foot traffic and those that are larger are usually built and maintained by armies with large siege weapons to be carted about. Draw and swing bridges can exist in highly commercial areas where road and waterways intersect.

Where gravity, timber, and water are abundant, the flume can exist. Usually constructed with wood planks formed into a vee, the flume is supported by rock or wood and can carry logs or other items. A flume is a fast but risky means of travel, exposing a rider to many dangers, and even slower moving, apparently safer flumes can shatter just as easily, breaking under the stress of misuse and neglect. The ruin of a stone flume exists on a cloud-veiled craggy peak and is inscribed with language attributed to giants. An old dam and holding basin are excavated near the peak and would have released water to carry the trunks, though the feeder stream has meandered away, leaving the reservoir dry and but a semi-circle of crumbling stones. Huge trees grow in nearby misty groves. Once felled and dragged to the basin, they passed an iron gate and were sent speeding down the mountain to a lakeside mill. In another land, a near vertical chute channels blocks of ice harvested and floated from high glaciers to food storage sheds in a town below.

Modes of Transport

Mode	Per Hour	Per Day	Condition
Aerial Ropeway	12 miles	288 miles	Requires one hour maintenance per day.
Balloon	5 miles	120 miles	Dependent on winds/fuel.
Ferry	1 mile	24 miles	Poled or towed.
Flume	20 miles	480 miles	Flumes can only run downhill and are usually no more than a few miles long. Direction changes are avoided and dangerous.
Railway	8 miles	192 miles	Requires four hours maintenance per day.

“Here he is master. Young Nadger at your service.”
“M’nar, Great Master. How may a humble kobold of the bloodline of dragon turtles, so clearly shown by my attire, mighty voice, and bearing, be of assistance to you, my lord?”
“Well now, Nadger. I’m having trouble with this squid necromancer…”

Continuing our look at peculiarly dressed or mannered or behaving kobolds…

Wears a knitted turtle shell
Its tail is caught in an enormous mousetrap
Drags around a fake mound of painted treasure it periodically sits on
Eats chillies constantly and pretends to breathe fire
Flaps its arms about like wings and constantly tries to fly while leaping off tall objects
Has a curly tail like a pig’s
Has a dragon-shaped kite attached to its back
Carries four hefty bags with 203 minor traps inside
Drags a huge bear-trap around
Can’t get out of a very sturdy net
Has pathetic stumpy flaccid wings growing from her shoulders
Has covered herself in soot thinking it makes her look like a black dragon
Is dressed in a pathetic fake pine tree costume
Has painted bat’s eyes on the back of her head
Has piercings through her scales
Has made a fake scorpion sting for his tail
Is hidden beneath an enormous horse rug
Has a forked tongue
Carries a huge trunk with the word “traps” written on it
Painted eyes on her tail to make it look like a snake
Fashioned its tail with fake suckers to look like a squid’s tentacle
Has a hefty metal ball and chain tied around her tail
Grips a ceremonial staff made of a dragon bone smeared with pungent divine cheese
Wanders about in a human-sized breastplate that acts like a shell
Has a ridiculously long tail
A dragonfly skitters about her head
Has a live toad in his mouth
Sharpens her fangs with a file
Wears spectacles and reads a book
Has eight withered dire rat’s tail attached to its own tail
Pushes a large carved wooden green dragon on wheels about
Paints her grey scales flaming red to hide her age
Wears a crown of clearly fake dragon teeth
Wears a crown of human false teeth
Rolls a huge stone egg about
Has attached dozens of bells to its tail
Has a lasso about its neck
Wears a goblin-head mask
Wanders about with a ladder, a stuffed badger and an inflated pig bladder
Has dressed his pet crow up to look like a dragon
Has painted “bite me” in Common on its chest
To prove her draconic might carries a rock almost as big as she is
Wears a ceremonial gown made of the hands of her deceased forefathers and foremothers
Has “Petal the Slayer” written on her shield
Wears a dog collar
Dressed in animal skulls
Hides behind a cloak made of bark
Wanders about in a barrel with eyeholes
Has flippers on the end of his tail
Carefully holds the beatific dead vole resplendent in her divine sack

<<PREVIOUSLY

For more of Pett’s perilous puns and collected oddities from Your Whispering Homunculus, check out the collected Your Whispering Homunculus and More Whispering Homunculus.

One hears a doom golem long before one sees it; a wailing of despair, a whisper of fate, like a lesser incarnation of death itself.

Doom Golem

Winter Bound. Made of antlers, bone, and steel infused with winter spirits of death and destruction, doom golems are the creations of evil wizards and doomsday cults. They invariably include a hangman’s rope, bones of an animal sacrificed to a dark god, and the captured final breath of a man sent to die in exile. A doom golem is animated by a trapped spirit of the arctic, which flees with a howl when the golem is destroyed.

Glowing Bones. The golem’s inner core glows blue, making it easy to see a doom golem after nightfall. Their bone frameworks are sometimes built with polar bear skulls or white dragon bones, and many have a pronounced hunch in their posture.

Chorus of Fear. A doom golem’s clattering bones make noise to terrify foes. Animals find the sound disquieting, but demons, goblins, and other creatures of evil are delighted by the ominous tones.

Construct Nature. A golem doesn’t require air, food, drink, or sleep.

DOOM GOLEM

Large construct, unaligned
Armor Class 17 (natural armor)
Hit Points 153 (18d10 + 54)
Speed 30 ft.

STR	DEX	CON	INT	WIS	CHA
24 (+7)	13 (+1)	16 (+3)	3 (–4)	10 (+0)	1 (–5)

Damage Immunities cold, poison, psychic; bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing from nonmagical attacks not made with adamantine
Condition Immunities charmed, exhaustion, frightened, paralyzed, petrified, poisoned
Senses darkvision 120 ft., passive Perception 10
Languages understands the languages of its creator but can’t speak
Challenge 10 (5,900 XP)

Fear Aura. Any non-evil creature that starts its turn within 20 feet of the doom golem must make a DC 15 Wisdom saving throw, unless the doom golem is incapacitated. On a failed save, the creature is frightened until the start of its next turn. If a creature’s saving throw is successful, the creature is immune to the doom golem’s Fear Aura for the next 24 hours.

Luminous Skeleton. The doom golem sheds dim light in a 10‑foot radius.

Immutable Form. The golem is immune to any spell or effect that would alter its form.

Magic Resistance. The golem has advantage on saving throws against spells and other magical effects.

Magic Weapons. The golem’s weapon attacks are magical.

ACTIONS

Multiattack. The doom golem makes one bite attack and one doom claw attack.

Doom Claw. Melee Weapon Attack: +11 to hit, reach 10 ft., one target. Hit: 14 (2d6 + 7) slashing damage plus 7 (2d6) cold damage.

Bite. Melee Weapon Attack: +11 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 23 (3d10 + 7) slashing damage.

Wind of Boreas (Recharge 5–6). The doom golem releases an arctic wind in a 15-foot radius around itself or in a 30-foot cone. Each creature in that area must make a DC 16 Constitution saving throw, taking 38 (11d6) cold damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.

REACTIONS

Doom Upon You. When a creature the doom golem can see within 60 feet of it hits it with a spell or attack that requires a ranged attack roll, the doom golem strikes the attacker with a doom bolt. The doom bolt is a shadowy reflection of the original attack, using the same attack roll and effects as the original, except it deals necrotic damage.

Find this and more monsters in the Creature Codex and Creature Codex Pawns!

The forest surrounds you, darkness filling the spaces between the massive boles, as you try to keep the path. There is a certain stillness—a slumbering immensity—just under the surface that is simultaneously inspiring and terrifying, disorienting in its primacy. But the inevitable snap of twig or wind in the leaves continues to bring you back from your frequent reveries…

Welcome to the Old Margreve!

Forests in fantasy roleplaying games are dark places, full of secrets. With this project, we bring the Old Margreve to the 5th Edition of the world’s most popular RPG. The Margreve is an ancient, enchanted forest that defends itself from those who come to cut its timber, poach its creatures, or steal its magic. Within its borders the Old Ways are strong, the word of the druids carries great weight, and griffons, dragons, and stranger creatures nest and hunt, undisturbed by humans, dwarves, or other lordlings.

Until your adventuring party shows up. Then things get really interesting!

Tales of the Old Margreve is coming to Kickstarter very soon…

(click image for larger map)

For 10th-level characters.

Angarika Flagellum is an ambitious flame dragon (Tome of Beasts) who established her lair in the Haunted Lands of the Giants, that portion of the Wasted West in the hinterlands of the Pytonne Mountains.

Angarika plays a dangerous game, luring unsuspecting adventures to her lair, then slaying them to acquire their magic. While many of her other plots and ruinous schemes are more far-reaching, this particular ploy has effectively delivered into her grasp an eclectic range of wondrous items.

Like the cuckoo bird that makes its nest in the home of another bird, the flame dragon resides in what was formerly a stone giant stronghold. Moreover, she uses the lair’s own history from those dark days of the Great Mage Wars as the lure to attract treasure seekers. Long after it was abandoned by its stone giant creators, the dungeon served as a bunker for a coterie of apprentices and servants to a Bemmean wizard who was famous for her moniker as the Vermilion Star.

Angarika ensnared recent groups of adventurers quite easily. They ventured into the Wasted West prepared to fend off the dust goblins, sparks, and chelicerae (all from Tome of Beasts). None embarked with the expectation that they’d find a devious young flame dragon waiting for them at the end.

Regional effects and lair actions: In addition to any random encounters the GM may wish to employ, the adventurers should experience the first two of the flame dragon’s regional effects as detailed in Tome of Beasts. The eruptions of sulfur geysers should be reserved for use when exploring the dungeon. The chambers bear the signature scars of past geyser eruptions, reflecting the dragon’s long stay, and are indicated on the map. Lair actions occur in the northern caverns during combat with the dragon.

Dungeon’s location: In the foothills of the geologically active Pytonne Mountains is an underground vault. The dungeon is leagues southwest of Trenorra, far west of the existing overland trail to Andarre. The Eagle’s Talon, an outcrop of rock roughly in the shape of three talons and a spur reaching up, marks the place where adventurers should leave the Andarre trail. From there, it is at least three days of rigorous cross-country hiking on broken ground in a westerly direction.

Dungeon lore: In the dim days of prehistory, stone whisperers of the stone giants created the vault. Its natural underground lava flow served their purpose as a source of molten rock and heat to fuel their forges. They used their magic and innate stone carving abilities to form chambers and passageways from the native igneous rock. Centuries passed, and even most of the stone giants abandoned—then forgot—about their marvelous creation.

In the earliest days of the upheaval that would be known as the Great Mage Wars, many wizards made plans and contingencies to survive the coming tumult. One of those was a Bemmean arcanist who whose true name did not survive history but has come to be known as the Mage of the Vermilion Star. Gifted with second sight, she dispatched loyalists to locate such a hiding place for herself and her apprentices. They found the stone giant vault in the Pytonnes, then wrote about their experiences in personal diaries and other historical texts, some of which survived to the present day. The Vermilion Star herself never reached the bunker—she was slain in the widening and escalating conflict, but members of her household and some of her wondrous possessions were taken there.

Angarika’s ploy: The dragon disseminates scraps of this lore using the journals and trinkets left behind by the Vermilion Star’s followers. Some of it is in surprisingly good condition. Like an expert angler, Angarika directs her agents to distribute these ancient tidbits out to where adventurers and treasure hunters congregate with the hopes of hooking them.

The Vault

Concealed entrance. Stone whispering giants masked this entrance with stone craft so that from any distance beyond 10 feet it would be indistinguishable from the surrounding surface rock. Casting true seeing or rolling a DC 20 Wisdom/Perception check is required to unmask the illusion.

Voglan’s lair. Voglan, a degenerate titan (Tome of Beasts), lives in this foyer. Despite his size, Voglan can navigate the entire complex by squeezing into the passages and stairways. He isn’t an active guardian, but he will fight anyone he encounters, believing it is his duty to protect the vault from intruders.

Orb repository. This chamber, intended to be the Vermilion Star’s own workshop and living quarters, has been locked since the time of the Great Mage Wars. The key to the room long since lost. A DC 25 Sleight of Hand/Dexterity check can trick the locking mechanism. Within lies one of the Vermillion Star’s most prized possessions, a rift orb (Midgard Worldbook). The room’s entrance is rigged with a pressure-plate trap (save DC 15, attack bonus +8, damage 4d10) of spring-loaded blades that protrude and retract from floor and ceiling unless detected (DC 15 Perception/Wisdom to see the murder holes) and deactivated (DC 15 Dexterity to spy the button set into the door frame.)

Lava river. A band of six malevolent firegeists (Tome of Beasts) inhabit the lava river in the vicinity of the entrance to the flame dragon’s lair. They live only to destroy. They attack anyone enters their territory.

Forge. Two corrupted ogre chieftains (Tome of Beasts) labor at the forges making chains and armor. Both have the extra arm mutation. Their working force faces the entrance to the lava river. They reside in the adjacent diamond-shaped chamber.

Bemmean Bunker. Several chambers that occupy the western section of the complex, including the lava pool, the mirror room and the wizard’s sanctuary. The lava pool serves as a source of fire elemental energy used in arcane experiments. A wide set of stairs lead to the mirror room, a chamber whose back walls are glassy obsidian, smooth and reflective, and act as a scrying chamber with images appearing in full on the walls. The magic never sleeps, however, projecting images in minute-long bursts from locations throughout Midgard. An image of the Labyrinth of Carreult at the heart of Bemmea appears once in a cycle every hour. The wizard’s sanctuary served as the hideout for the Vermilion Star’s coterie and was subdivided into four cubicles, now mostly dilapidated, each with a cot and a wardrobe.

Giant’s Hall. This grand hall once was the pride of its stone giant inhabitants. Much of its grandeur has been ruined by time, thieves, vandals and squatters. All the pedestals that displayed the stone giants’ accomplishments in sculpture are empty, huge sections of decorative stonework of ivy and scrollwork designs have been ripped from the walls. Even some of the floor tiles have been removed. More than a half-dozen fissures from sulfur geysers have scarred the surface of the room. Its greatest indignity is the fact it now serves as the abode for three flab giants (Tome of Beasts), cursed degenerates of their kind, who’ve made nests of grasses and filth in the east, west and north alcoves.

Crypts. The Vermilion Star’s followers carved out this hall themselves when it became apparent they would not receive relief from Bemmea and would, instead, die in this bunker. Skeletal remains in simple wrappings fill most of the small chambers. The sarcophagus was reserved for their leader, but they were unable to retrieve the body, so it has sat undisturbed. Four secret panels (DC 15 Perception/Intelligence) reveal recessed drawers containing sentimental trinkets of modest value, no more than 250 gp each. They are a ring of Bemmean craftsmanship, a necklace pendant of Nuria Natal, a bracelet of tiny sea shells and a set of figurines of carved warriors and wizards that are pieces to a board game.

The small chamber outside the door to the sarcophagus crypt contains a disquiet spirit, a shroud (Tome of Beasts), which whispers “Vermilion Star was our doom!” in a litany and will attack anyone who approaches the door to the main crypt.

Flame Dragon’s Lair. A chamber of worked stone contains grisly trophies, rows of scorched skulls resting upon shelves, the remains of Angarika’s victims.

Angarika will confront any intruders in the main cavern, lair effects from the stat block are in full force. She gives no quarter and is so confident in her destiny she will not flee in the face of any threat. She possesses a wand of magic detection she keeps within the folds of her scales.

Angarika’s most precious treasures are kept behind crystalline viewing boxes in a vault in the rear of the cavern. There are separate containers for each, including the prized item, a copy of Nullifer’s Lexicon (Midgard Worldbook). There are also crystalline containers for a ring of resistance (necrotic), ioun stone (protection), ring of water walking, wand of magic missiles, potion of cloud giant strength, decanter of endless water, potion of invulnerability, saddle of the cavalier, potion of climbing, potion of greater healing and a 1st level spell scroll of ill-fated word (Midgard Heroes Handbook). On a potion stand there are two vials, a potion of climbing and a potion of greater healing.

<<PREVIOUSLY

In the North, life is harder than south of the Nieder Straits. In the fjordlands, running out of firewood doesn’t mean a chill night, but exposure to bone‑wracking cold or a trip into the dark and dangerous forest for kindling. Everyone from king to lowly thrall must work hard daily to survive. A life of indolence is unheard of—and impossible without help from powerful magic. Work-shy characters aren’t just lazy; they’re ostracized as threats to the community.

People of the North are practical and independent, energetic, and inured without complaint to the hardships of life. No central authority demands taxes or a cut of a party’s loot, but at the same time no one reins in the excesses of monsters and unscrupulous rulers. When bandits or trolls or a jarl’s bullying huskarls come prowling, it’s down to each family and their friends to choose fight or flight. Death comes to all sooner or later, for no matter how well prepared and defended, nothing lives one moment longer than it’s fated.

[From the Midgard Worldbook]

LAND OF DEADLY BEAUTY

Nature is more dangerous than the most savage band of raiders. Deadly creatures lurk in dark pine forests, blizzards and snowdrifts can isolate farms and towns for months at a time, and the temperature plummets to a deadly chill during the winter months. Even daylight, the oldest defense against ghosts and skulking horrors, dims as the year ends and dooms people to huddle around their fires and stare nervously into the dark.

For all its harshness and hazards, however, the North is indisputably, breathtakingly beautiful. Frost glitters in the morning sun, making the world shine as if coated with diamonds. Waterfalls thunder over cliffs, cascading down through an unearthly haze of mist and rainbows. The land’s beauty inspires countless poems and songs, but for those lost and starving in the wilderness, the allure can be deadly, dulling the mind to approaching danger.

LIFE IN THE NORTHLANDS

Outside of family and clan, felag is the strongest bond in society. It means “fellowship” and “partnership” and is linked to the power of the Fe rune, which represents division of wealth. A felag oath-taker swears to loyally support one’s chieftain and fellow warriors in a sacred bond between companions. This oath defines the felag’s aims, its right to depose and elect leaders, and fair division of the spoils.

Most Northlanders are karls, free farmers and artisans—and part time raiders and traders—who answer only to themselves. Unlike their counterparts in the feudal hierarchies of the south, homesteaders aren’t bound to a local lord by anything but their own choices and oaths. Karls who directly serve a lord are known as huskarls (“karls of the house”) and make up a lord’s chief allies, administrators, and personal bodyguard. A wise lord is free with gifts and opportunities for glory, else a few karls may look elsewhere for a patron. The blandishments of Loki, Boreas, giants, or the trollkin sometimes win over a karl far out on the cold margins of civilization.

Above karls are chieftains, jarls, and kings—nobles defined not by bloodline or divine provenance but followers, ships, and estates.

Sometimes the North has many kings and sometimes it has none, but rarely do they unify more than a relatively small area, and never for more than a generation or two. Royalty attracts more than enough rivals, invaders, and pretenders to stymie any ruler’s power, and successions are always disputed. Kingship is not regarded as especially sacred or special. Some rulers might claim descent from a hero or god (occasionally backed up by genuine divine favor), but success is the only real measure of nobility in the North.

In the lowest social class are the thralls or slaves, prisoners of war or unfortunates kidnapped by raiders or bound servants unable to pay their debts. Most thralls lead hard lives, but some rise from such depths. Everyone respects triumph over adversity, and good slaves are considered part of the family, sharing its hardships and successes with everyone else. Karls often free their slaves, either in their wills or by treating them as freed villagers as the years go on. Social order is fluid and defined by one’s actions: Kingship and jarldom are forged through war and adventure, not guaranteed by bloodline.

Customs of the North

The unyielding landscape hammered Northern life into its current shape. The surroundings define its people far more than race—the societies of humans, dwarves, giants, and others share much in common. They approach life with the same bullish mindset, worship in a similar fashion, and follow roughly the same customs. Humans can travel to a trollkin steading or a goblin hall with reasonable expectations of proper etiquette.

Still, each species exhibits prejudices and preferences, muddying the waters of tradition and adding unexpected twists that can form the basis of adventures. Jotuns rarely think it unfair to challenge guests to giant-sized games of strength for example, while kobold Tings (see below) are notorious for backstabbing politics, and what’s on the table at a troll feast might not be palatable to other races… although it’s still rude not to eat. The most common shared customs involve honor and reputation, hospitality and feasting, the Ting, wergild and duels, and the infamous reaver raid.

Once Northlanders sail south, however, these customs might be left in their wake as circumstance, company, and convenience dictate. Certainly those on the receiving end of a raid have no recourse to any protections offered by Northlands mores.

This is not to say that those from the Northlands simply run wild when far from home. When engaged in trade, the Northlanders’ familiarity with foreign customs often catches southerners off guard, surprised by just how cosmopolitan these warlike people turn out to be.

Honor and Reputation

Reputation is everything. Warriors tell tales of old comrades and adventures, and skalds sing of deeds both valorous and vile. Passing news and gossip is a common pastime from thralls to kings. Desire for a good reputation compels men and women to acts of generosity, valor, and hospitality, while ill-repute is rightly feared and the taint of dishonor difficult to shed. Northlanders have a prickly sense of honor: A good name is all that remains after death, so most people don’t just want to do the right thing, they want to be seen doing it.

Honor isn’t the same as goodness, however. Wicked reavers are considered honorable, and some good Northlanders are known as nidingr (honorless) for abandoning the crueler Northern customs. Regardless of alignment, an honorable man or woman is generous in gifting and hospitality, fair-minded in judgments, and fearless in battle. The ability to uphold such values can keep even the truly malevolent in good favor with the gods, and the ability to subvert such customs to meet one’s goals draws the favor of the more devious among the deities.

Cleverness and wit are also essential—Northlanders should be able to recite poetry, evade the tempers and tantrums of the gods, and be considered cunning by allies and enemies alike. Northlanders take life stoically, calm in even the worst of circumstances. They know no human or god escapes their fate, and complaining is pointless…

___

But this is where we must stop for now, my friend. My mind, it wanders so at times. Do come see me again, though, for more of the wonders and surprises of Midgard.

You can continue on this adventure in the Midgard Worldbook and Midgard Heroes Handbook.

<<PREVIOUSLY

It’s October! So here’s a set of wallpapers for your computer, your smartphone, or whatever electronic device you’ve got. This month celebrates woodland adventures with the cover from Tales of the Old Margreve, by artist Eric Belisle.

Bring on the creepy, foreboding, magnificent woods!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Please, click on the image you want to download to expand it into a downloadable image.