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The Dead Isles of Altarin

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My first “campaign” was over. The Savage Front campaign, in my eyes, had been a failure caused by me, the Dungeon Master. Under ten sessions long, one total party kill, and a few failed plots was enough for me to end the story and start a new campaign. Did I quit? Yes. Looking back, I could have handled it much better and saved the Savage Front without beginning something new. Alas, that’s not what happened; instead, me and my friends began a new campaign called the Dead Isles of Altarin. This time, I decided against doing mountains of preparation beforehand and instead started with a simple idea: an archipelago ruled over by a trio of three liches called the Dread Admirals. Under them, common folk lived and thrived but a revolution was slowly brewing against the undead. As the party entered the world, they’d have to take a side and decide the fate of the Dead Isles of Altarin. This campaign, I was going to prepare little, improvise a lot, and go with the flow of the story. Well, how…

Clearly Portraying NPCs

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It’s Friday night. Into the ancient gnomish outpost (now ruled by a maniacal beholder) the Iskryn group delves, knowing of the brutal ice trolls and sentient soulforged that wait below. Before they are able to descend, a group of the beholder’s minions attacks their fortified resting location, oh no! Alas, they are barely able to fend them off before another squad arrives, led by a distinct soulforged armed with a glowing greatbow and two frosty scimitars. “He’s watched you long enough - Aku, Dani, and Cloud in the Eyes. From afar, he’s witnessed your glorious victories and embarrassing defeats. Now, as you assault one of his lairs, he seeks to speak. You’ll likely want to accept.” The players immediately look to me, asking, “Does he seem sincere? How many soulforged are in his control? Is anyone else coming?” My voice, speaking style, and demeanor all change as I transform from Tamus the soulforged captain to RJ, the dungeon master and deity of this campaign. “First,” I say, “Yes, ye…

No One Is Omniscient

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It’s Friday night. The Iskryn group has spent the past eight sessions on the hunt for a gnomish artifact, device, prison, or person. Every step of the way, the people they’ve met and discussed this ancient gnomish thing with have had conflicting viewpoints on what it is. Gitro, a human researcher from a powerful mage tower claimed it was a relic of the gnome’s first days in Iskryn. Magus Sint, a halfling archmage and warlock was sure it was an entire prison, trapping the souls of long-dead beasts. And Voros, a red dragonborn knowledge-savant, thought this sought after gnomish thing was an actual gnome that’s somehow survived millennia after his race’s apparent extinction. Slowly, they’re delving deeper into the mystery of this gnomish thing, learning of its deadly history and purpose. Still, though, they’re unsure who to trust.

I have my players in a pickle; who do they trust, and how do they determine if what that character thinks is the truth is the actual truth. Well, as the dunge…

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