RJD20

Soaring into a manifest zone on their airship, the Misty Tide, the party erupts into a pocket of the Elemental Plane of Fire high above a sea of bubbling lava. Surrounding them are hissing fire newts mounted upon burning birds, prepared to hijack the airship and release the fire elementals powering it. The airship’s captain screams, “Hold out! We’ll escape ‘ere in a minute, I’ll get us through!” In response, the fiery raiders attack, lead by a striking fire newt warlock. The combat begins, and she thrusts her molten scimitar into the broiling air. The blade soars between each party member, scorching them with ease before reforming in her hands. Later in the combat, she deftly descends atop her burning bird below the airship, narrowly avoiding a blast of eldritch energy. In the struggle’s final moments, she dismounts from her tiny phoenix in a whirl, leaping thirty feet to gouge one of the party members with her scimitar and deal tremendous damage. Ultimately, she fails; the rest of

Mounted atop their elf-raised pegasi, an adventuring party flies above the walls of Merlint. Accustomed to flying guests, the dragonborn guards atop the battlements wave them down using dancing lights and friendly fireballs. They descend to the city proper, greeted by soaring towers, docked airships, and a quiet city night. Understanding of Asudem’s tricky politics, a group of outsiders rallies to meet with the desert town’s council. They know of a threat to the town that digs beneath its walls and aims to destroy it from within. In the depths below an esteemed port city, dungeoneers navigate sewers overrun with vermin: otyughs, massive rats, and fire beetles. They’re trying to find a discrete way into a lord’s palace, but what to do? Perhaps they can find where the cleanest water runs… Cities, villages, and towns all fit under the broad term of settlement. They are seen as pockets of safety, locations where the party can rest, resupply, and find a new quest. There are hundreds

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,