Campaign Primers (D&D Dark Sun)

[shasodnarb]

CH'HEAN
( Primer 1 / 5 )

I am the motion of decision, the fact of action, the death of apathy. Praising, ministering, confirming, I invoke the Bornless One and awaken myself to power.

Much like the soothing embrace provided by inhaling the smoke of a cooked braxat liver, a satisfying warmth spread through Ch'Hean's body, relaxing her mind, inaugurated by the activation of her last rejuvenating shrite-crystal. Having served its purpose, she discarded the husk, much like she had done moments earlier to her hired dunewalker. Almost too late, it hadn't occurred to her that the guide had wanted the same thing from her expedition. It mattered little now. The lesser mindbender had collapsed under the relentless rapidity of her assaulting mindforms.

Ch'Hean smiled and knelt beside her defeated foe, caressing his soaked hairline with genuine respect and appreciation. Without him, she may not have been able to claim the Wanderer's Journal from the depths of these archaic ruins. Therefore, in a gesture unbecoming her natural inclinations, she mercilessly ended his life with her elven dagger, illuminating the silver blade's delicate engravings with his bright blood. She swiftly turned her mind towards the next obstacle.

She pondered her week's travel south to Urik while she tightened her hoodstraps and ascended the final spiral stairwells to the frigid night that waited outside for her. Despite her travails to this point, she was still fully prepared for the journey ahead. She grew in confidence as she neared the surface, comforted by knowing the worst was behind her. Usually, travelling the wastes alone was suicidal but her guide had done very well to quietly prepare his way back. Now, having scoured his mind before ending his life, she would take advantage of his treacherous intents.

The great city-state of Urik was her destination. From there, or rather its outlying villages, she could book passage on a trade caravan and travel closer to the Free City in order to eventually sell the book to the highest bidder. Perhaps even Tithian himself could find a use for it. If not, then the Veiled Alliance certainly would. It mattered not. Only a week's worth of travel separated her from Urik. Unfortunately, as she rolled open the final stone door, it was clear by the lion's roar of a greeting she received that Urik had found her first.

[shasodnarb]

^ The teaser handout for my Dark Sun solo campaign for Mythweaver.

[LizardTau]

sounds awesome

[shasodnarb]

Rawr, and that's all I'll say about that. Pic related.

[Mythweaver]

Very cool, I'm in and I'm going to be a giant psychic hamster...no wait a 19th century British grenadier...LOL

Well written, I'm looking forward to reading the new character creation rules when they come out. Some sort of mind bending desert survivalist is what I'll likely create.

[shasodnarb]

;D
For real, I don't know why you'd never let me play my cross-campaign British Green Jacket in a D&D campaign! For what it's worth, as I told RedShirt and he was suitably relieved, I deleted my Tau-to-D&D stats file, lol.

Rgr @ character, though. Since the timeline and details are the same, let me know if you need the setting to make character history and such.

[Mythweaver]

I will need them, I haven't read anything Darksun in like 10 years.

[shasodnarb]

Only thing I ask is you confine character knowledge to the Tablelands proper (i.e. basic campaign setting). As always, everything else is fine by me.

Since you're just getting back into Athas, the easy suggestion is that you create a character who isn't already exposed to the myriad complicated nuances of Athasian life, or at least only in a limited capacity. That would probably make easing into Dark Sun easier and probably more interesting. I assume you should be able to work your updated idea of a kinetic or metabolic ranger type into the campaign without any trouble.

P.S. Btw, if the new psionics book doesn't quite do it, I will be using the old "Will and the Way" as a template for psionic combat and power modification. Moreover, I'm working on a "magic fix" too.

[shasodnarb]

XANIKOS
( Primer 2 / 5 )

Pengembara, bless me for my sins. To oblivion I march, forging the way with obscene Dwarven blood, dissolving your hollow chains with the treason of the usurpers.

"Yes, I understand that, good Patrician, but once you reach the oasis I'll have you convinced. After all, good water unexploited is like a torch in the hand of a blind man. As I've shown, the project will pay for itself within twenty years and we shall both be honoured by the Dictator and revered by all of Balic!"

Three straight weeks of negotiation has tested Xanikos' patience to the limit, particularly when he had needed no convincing from the start. His mind had been made up weeks ago, long before he had left Balic, kept safe from intrusion by his employer's subtle gift. However, masking indecision for so long had been difficult. He may have been blessed with an astute knack for impersonation but playing the part of a Balican politician had grown weary. Thankfully, the reward waiting for him if he was successful in procuring a satisfactory agreement kept him focussed. Once this was all done, he would finally be able to retire from his criminal life. His future payment of one stamped golden coin be more than enough to ensure his continued comfort.

However, even disregarding the negotiations, the journey had been an exercise in frustration, cursed by misfortune. A great caravan had been booked by his employer from House Wavir to protect the false Patrician, albeit without their knowledge of the ruse. Despite great funding and the trading house's best possible preparation, the beastmaster had fallen sick just before departure and halfway through the journey, his Ledopolan replacement would prove to be unequal to the task at hand. Two weeks in, he ended up losing control of one of the massive citadel-wagon's two mekillots, correspondingly losing his life in the process. Moreover, the other mekillot had proven more than a little skittish without a guiding mind to press it onwards. As a result, the caravan's pace was slowed considerably. Fortunately, the guards and outriders appeared to be more than sufficient in numbers and competence to deter any interference from raiders or monstrosities. Plus, only one week of travel remained until the caravan reached the safety of Durg's Puddle.

It wouldn't. A few days after being reduced to one mekillot, the attack came. The attack was not unexpected. As usual, the attack came at night when the attackers could quickly close ground without fear of being speared by outriders or targetted by archers. However, there was no assault. The kank-riding attackers simply formed a quiet circle around the fortified encampment, preventing the escape of any passengers. The waited for the Waviran guards to do their work, guards who wore the same house livery as themselves. Unbeknownst to the drugged Xanikos, the other passengers of the caravan were killed one by one in their sleep. The next day, he awoke staring at the sun, firmly bound and set flat on his back, unaware that his body had reverted back to its natural shape. Initially blinded by the light, his vision cleared once a familiar face blotted out the sun and cast a shadow across his own.

"My lord Albeorn, why? I don't understand..."

[johnchurchill]

Very cool. However, 2/5 is what most people would call "incomplete". Please add the rest.

[Jack Shrapnel]

Shas left the board unfortunately, therefore it will likely remain incomplete....

[johnchurchill]

Too bad, although they hardly seem like primers. Anyway, judging from his/her above link, it's nice to see that the designers have seen fit to announce 5th edition.

[Keijukainen & Leijona]

TO'KSA

( Primer 3 / 5 )[/b][/center][/size]

When prey sees hunter, eyes open large with fear. Act quickly and make fear terror. Then prey will quickly flee or wildly attack. Both make simple hunting. Both make good meal.

Even Iskandar joined in the celebration of their victory. Raising his arms skyward in praise of their good fortune, the group's templarate leader threw his head back and shouted relieved curses at the top of his lungs to nobody in particular. Although less than a third of their number now remained from those that began the campaign one month ago, these eight remaining grizzled veterans were more than sufficient to destroy a half-dozen bugs. With his quota now filled, a promotion was certainly forthcoming. Perhaps even more important, he had long since gained the hard earned respect from these ex-gladiators. When the time came, he expected at least a couple of them to accept an offer of patronage in exchange for loyal service to him.

Indeed, Iskandar had done very well for himself. It was now more than a month since Tyr had banished Kreen from its territory. Approving his earnest request to lead the first expedition, the war bureau had sent him out almost immediately following the declaration. Although finding the hidden nests in the badlands had proven to be notoriously difficult, this had nonetheless been his sixth destroyed clutch, involving the collection of three dozen antennae pairs and several hundred destroyed eggs.

He gave his men a few relaxed moments to collect themselves and revel in the completion of the mission. Permitting a tired smile, he sat gingerly upon a surprisingly comfortable rock and rather proudly adjusted his purple templar's cape to the left side in the old fashion. Intentionally, to his silent satisfaction, this garnered a broad variety of looks from his motley group of ex-slaves. However, this amusement turned to bemusement in the blink of an eye. Almost in perfect unison, the group's eyes forcussed beyond the templar and opened large with fear.

Launched at the apex of his great leap, To'Ksa's pair of weighted chatchka curved past the templar's head and now found themselves embedded in a pair of still-sitting warriors. Having gracefully spun their way into the invaders' soft flesh, the two veterans were sent sprawling backwards, shocking their comrades back to reality and triggering three of them to movement towards their idle weapons. With a surge of inner strength, one warrior brought his trikal hurtling through the air to his awaiting grip. Digging his heels into the dirt, the psychic warrior charged the highly decorated Kreen who had since landed, dispatched his prey, and was now strugging to remove its jagged spear from the templar's shattered skull.

The bug looked up at the charging warrior only to see him disappear with the Way. Though many paces away, the invisible warrior had begun to swing his trikal in a great arc. Unconfused, the kreen took immediate action. Emerging in full motion, the veteran found himself swinging into thin air as the Kreen lept instantly to the human's side. Having abandoned its gythka, the kreen's massive claw now did the required decisive work. A human neck quickly became shredded flesh and with the addition of a second claw, unrecognizable gore. The lifeless body fell from the kreen's grip. A moment later, the remainder of a head was casually discarded as well.

Now having recovered his weapons, Hamzah stood up, familiar short blades in each hand. He had been a successful solo gladiator in Tyr, best known for having single-handed defeating a mighty b'rohg. Beside him, two more gladiators were holding their heads, writhing upon the ground in agony, issuing deep guttural moans and frothy bile from their mouths. Hamzah was now alone. For his part, Hamzah had cast off the kreen's clumsy mental attack with little effort. In this moment, they become equals in opposition. As the two humans upon the ground fell silent, To'Ksa backstepped and collected his gythka from the templar's head, removed two more chatchka from his leather harness, and faced the confident human standing only a few yards away, which began to talk.

Insulted, the kreen sprang into action, launching its chatchka and darting to the human's left. Trained well to dodge thrown spears and arrows, even two chatchka shouldn't have posed much difficulty. However, in mid-flight, each weapon became two more, splitting left and right. Paralyzed by sudden indecision, one tore a wide gash across the top of his right thigh as it flew between his legs. Fortunately for Hamzah, the bug had incorrectly determined his handedness, having fallen for a basic gladiatorial ruse, and struck the wrong leg. However, he remained dazed by the kreen's clever and subtle use of a mental harbinger to land a physical blow. Although the injury itself wasn't severe enough to warrant genuine concern, the kreen's thought process certainly was. For the first time in his life, Hamzah understood that these much-maligned insectoid raiders weren't just primitive savages.

The bug continued to circle and Hamzah strugged to maintain a balanced facing. One stumble was all that was needed, and one stumble was all that it took. To'Ksa pounced, coordinating psionic illusions with physical attacks, and it tooks only seconds to disable Hamzah. A venomous bite ended his suffering. Without pointless mourning or deliberation, the kreen quickly checked the bodies for items of interest an found nothing. Immediately, he departed, beginning a long search for a new clutch.

[Keijukainen & Leijona]

MUDU-MA
( Primer 4 / 5 )

[/b][/center]

"I recognize in the thieves, traitors, murders, and rapists, in the ruthless and the cunning, a deep hateful beauty. From this beauty springs creativity on which our survival depends."

Ral and Guthay having finally laid down their ever-smiling heads, the Sunlight Home was now fully embraced by the rare darkness of a peaceful night. The view from the hidden balcony of the Forest Mother's dagafari was inspiring. Only a handful of favoured advisors had ever set foot inside her inner sanctum but tonight, Mudu-Ma had now joined that select company. However, she was far from an invited guest. With the patronage of Aukash-Pad, she had infiltrated the Paper Wasps and risen to become a prominent and trusted Nganga, permitting her to bypass both guards and traps. Although the night had not progressed without its moments of high anxiety, the long-conceived plan for Lalali-Puy's assassination had finally reached its climax. After centuries of failure, inspired by the recent success of Tyr's rebellion against the Pretender Kalak, the Bone Village finally had Lalali-Puy at their mercy.

Mudu-Ma was equipped for the right weapon for the job, a weapon long since lost by the Oba during her ancient crusade against the aarakocra. A powerful artifact given by the Silveraak of Winter's Nest, the steel spear known as Naught retained the vengeful spirits of every aarakocra slain by Inenek. Their tortured souls thirsted for the old nemesis' blood, subconsciously prompting Mudu-Ma to drive the spear tip into the sleeping queen's black heart.

However, despite her unpunished atrocities throughout the ages, in become so close to Gulg's leader over time, it was apparent that the Oba still retained genuine human sentiments towards her people. Gulg and its inhabitants were unquestionably hers, of course, but she repeatedly demonstrated sincerity in her care for the forest domain. She took a direct role in participating in all facets of Gulgan society and made regular appearances to update and reassure her people, taking the time to meet many personally in their own dagadas, no matter their station. In affairs far beyond their comprehension, her intentions appeared to remain the same, always striving to protect them from being exposed to the ravages of an otherwise bitter and merciless world. Even more, unique among the leaders of the city-states, she was actively engaged in healing the battered landscape of Athas. She constantly strove to expand the verdancy of the Crescent Forest beyond the confines of her own region, achieving very slow but steady progress. Acknowledging this in her thoughts, Mudu-Ma had to remind herself that Lalali-Puy was still a tyrant and a criminal, and a defiler of the highest order who had more than earned a bloody death. With that, she plunged the spear into Rajaat's 11th Champion.

Time stopped. Mudu-Ma and everything around her was paralyzed by the waking Oba, the passage of seconds stretching into incomprehension. The assassin and her spear stood motionless in action, prompting the sorceror-queen to smile as she rose from her bedding and stood beside her assailant.

"My friend, before I release you from my present company, I ask that you hear my words. What is most important is this: understand that to know the future with certainty is to be trapped by that future. It collapses time. Present becomes future. I, Gulg, and Athas all require more freedom than that.

"In a moment, you may leave and retain your position as a leader among my Paper Wasps. However, as punishment for your ignorance, in exchange for my old warspear, I command you to deliver two messages. Tell you Veiled Alliance friends that I am not Kalak. I am neither a fool nor an enemy to your organizations, but I will tolerate no further nonsense from Aukash-Pad. However, when he is ready, I openly invite to speak with me about reconstituting the Ivory Triangle. Secondly, tell Traaka that Aarakocra-Naught is coming. Now, go, my old friend. May your ancestors watch over you."