To make up for it, I am going to put up a dungeon room a day!
Starting with the Ruined monastery of Thoth.
Ruin Type: Ruined monastery of Thoth
Reason of destruction: A Culling instituted by the knights of Tyr trying to bury a secrete
Inhabitants: A group of Vanir who are There to find the body of Tel Shock A fabled necromancer of the iron syndicate.
3 Vanir Criminals
6 hobgoblins (three with long swords Three with shields and maces) who are hiding in the monastery
Every 4 hours roll a die 6 if 1 an encounter occurs
1. 1d4 Vanir criminals (Nearing the end of their of there repentance)
2. 1d6 Orcin Scouts, Who are scouting for “The tower of GHUL”
3. 1 VERY lost Ogre
4. 3 Apostates Hiding from their judgment
5. 1 Old man looking for his “Son”
6 1d12 Knights of Tyr Hunting Apostates (The players ARE trespassing)
7. 1d4 Black Bears
8. 5 Necromancers in training gathering herbs
9. 1 hungry owl bear
10. 3 feral trolls
Intro: The monastery
you crest over a small hill and spot in the distance the monastery you have been looking for. The complex is perched on a overhang and is walled, your gut wrenches when you come to realize that it seems it could fall into the ocean at any moment. And worse yet, you feel the tell tale feeling of magic flowing over you as you stare bewitched at a young man
1: His death sentence
A boy of 18 seasons clothed in black metal with a grimacing bone white mask and clutching at a fur cape stands stationary in the middle of the trail. His chest bears the symbol of a predatory bird with a tightly clenched spear in its talons.
At his side rests a large spear slightly warped from time and use. On his other, a shield bearing a green X with Runes below it.
If approached He will shrug his shield into a defensive stance and sing:
She came to me one morning
One lonely Sunday morning
Her long hair flowing
In the midwinter wind
I know not how she found me
For in darkness I was walking
And destruction lay around me
From a fight I could not win
Ah ah ah ...
She asked me name my foe then
I said the need within some men
To fight and kill their brothers
Without thought of love or God
And I begged her give me horses
To trample down my enemies
So eager was my passion
To devour this waste of life
Ah ah ah ...
But she wouldn’t think of battle that
Reduces men to animals
So easy to begin
And yet impossible to end
For she, the mother of our men
Who counseled me so wisely, then
I feared to walk alone again
And asked if she would stay
Ah ah ah ...
Oh lady, lend your hand outright
And let me rest here at your side
Have faith and trust
In peace, she said
And filled my heart with life
There is no strength in numbers
Have no such misconception
But when you need me
Be assured I wont be far away
Ah ah ah ...
Thus having spoke, she turned away
And though I found no words to say
I stood and watched until I saw
Her black coat disappear
My labor is no easier
But now I know I'm not alone
I find new heart each time
I think upon that windy day
And if one day she comes to you
Drink deeply from her words so wise
Take courage from her
As your prize
And say hello from me
Ah ah ah ...
He charges into Melee, and is easily cut down. He dies gurgling with a smile on his face.
AC: 8
HP: 6
HD: 2
Equipment:
1 spear
1 +1 Mask of the Raven
1 +1 Shield of warmth
1 +1 Suit Black Chain mail
2 SP
Mask of The Raven:
“Some men Are best left alone, especially the ones bearing the raven. They're a hollow men. Ones that exist only pay their debt to me”
- The Raven's Teachings
The Vanir Have only one god, The raven queen. The god of repentance and execution, This mask is one of pain, Made from metal and painted to look as bone. Then It bears the curse of the raven queen, and is given to a criminal who is sent into an enemy Territory. This Mask Causes Large scale Hallucinations where the wearer experiences painful memory's until “Repentance is paid in full” ( To kill an enemy for each year the wear has lived).
Value: “Its Cursed! NO WAY”
Shield of warmth
“Go forth and concur the north men.”
When The Dwarven King Turadin Decide to push his fiefdom into the north, The main peril of such a monumental task is the elements that would kill the men over time. So Turadin set to the task of crafting magical equipment that would emanate the heat of a Blazing fire
With this item a man can stay warm no matter what befalls the user
Value: item value + 4000 GP
