Frozen Over: The Ghost Town of Dample

History

The village of Dample was a normal fishing village, like many others in the Bay. Its population of roughly 150 set to work each morning, going out on trawlers to try and fill their larders and their purses. The uruks of Dample got along well enough with the nearby alfar villages, but as the situation in the Belltower Council became more heated, relations began to decay. Finally, war broke out, and the fate of Dample took a left turn.

Like everyone else, the citizens of Dample wanted to hope that things could be resolved easily and peacefully, but as skirmishes began to run back and forth over the borders that possibility seemed to evaporate. To the west of Dample, the Uruk militia began to set up a fortified camp on the Old Road where it crossed the border. Eddershot was in a solid position to protect the narrow land entrance into the Uruk nation and the Alfar attacks on it all ended in failure.

The war abated for a time while both sides hurried to bring in the harvest before the frost arrived, but in the first months of winter the alfar decided to take a different strategy. Frontal assaults had not worked, Eddershot was simply too strong, but the southern coast of the uruk nation was poorly defended. And so the alfar used the first of the new ships the hodekin had built, and staged an invasion into uruk territory, establishing a beachhead at Dample.

It was still early in the winter, so there were still some hours of daylight, but the alfar chose to begin before dawn had broken. They opened up with ship-mounted ballistae, the massive darts set aflame and lighting the way for the landing. A few of the townsfolk were alert enough to take up arms, but most were busy trying to extinguish the flames that were devouring their homes. The alfar ships came in close, and the landing parties began to sweep through the town, slaughtering as they went. The people of Dample fought hard, but they were far outnumbered.

Only one-third of the people of Dample escaped to safety that morning, fleeing up the Stony Road to Wigby or the Lane to Hagen. By the time the alfar and hodekin forces reached Wigby, a defence had been mounted, led by the elben Graf, Joral de Roen. The defenders pushed the invaders back, driving them back to their ships at Dample. The village was retaken, and the invasion rebuffed, but Dample had been reduced to smouldering ruins, haunted by the ghasts of the slain.

What is there? Who is there?

Very little remains of the village, those survivors who did not immediately join the militia have taken up residence elsewhere. Dample’s Reeve was in Rackholl when the attack occurred, leaving his Deputy in charge. She led the village’s defence, but was unfortunately one of the first to die. The ghasts of the slain townsfolk linger around the ruins even today, two years later. Normally a ghast would have long since crossed over in that time, but something keeps these ghasts anchored to the world in their ruined village.

The only building that is still standing in any stable manner is the kirkhall. The sturdier construction of the kirkhall, coupled with its distance from the shoreline, contributed to its survival. Those who observe the ghasts have noticed that they seem to congregate in the kirkhall every Volands, as if attending services. Other strange behaviour exhibited by the ghasts includes the fact that they usually will not interact with the living; normally a ghast is every bit his or her own self, but dead; the ghasts of Dample, in contrast, rarely even acknowledge the presence of the living. Sometimes they will speak as if still living their lives, often talking to people who are not there, even carrying on entire conversations with them. Today, the living generally avoid Dample, though regular patrols keep watch on the southern shoreline, in case of a repeat attack.

Geography

Dample sits near the pointed tip of the northern shore of the Narsund. A small wood used to grow just east of the village around the kirkhall, but much of that perished in the fires during the attack. The Stony Road passes through this dead wood as it comes into the village from the north. The other road, the Lane, passes south of this wood on its way east to Hagen. Most of the village sits between the kirkhall and the docks in the west. Most of the burnt-out buildings are missing roofs, and many have lost walls as well. The docks are still mostly intact, though the fishing vessels were all either scuttled or taken by the alfar in their retreat.

Adventure Hooks

The ghasts of Dample provide potential adventure. The questions of why they still cling to the world and why they seem to act as if they are still alive and yet don’t see or react to living beings are mysteries that your adventurers may wish to solve. It’s possible that there is some sort of magical artifact affecting the deceased in odd ways, or perhaps the trauma has scarred the ghasts and they won’t cross over until the alfar have been defeated and punished.

Another idea, if you wish to begin your campaign earlier in the war, is to have you adventurers participate in the battle and subsequent evacuation. Perhaps they can tip the balance of the battle, or help more to escape. If you wish, you can have the ghasts create a vivid hallucinatory re-enactment of the battle, so the party can experience the battle without shifting your campaign back in the timeline.

Friday: The Sorrows Festival

Frozen Over: The Ruins of Southwold

History

Southwold was a simple town on the outskirts of the Human nation. Located near the eastern edge of the Roscoe forest, it was largely a lumber town, housing a lumber mill that processed logs cut in the forest. The town was also used as a staging area for hunting parties heading into the southern wilds, and for parties seeking valuable resources in abandoned outposts and castles, particularly a keep called Tolling that had stockpiles of useful ores not found in the Bay and an extensive library including many magical texts. This quiet but productive town, however, had a change of fate 12 years ago. During the months of Yule in 135 YotF, two hostile tribes of varkers were encountered in the area, the Coppercross and Brokenbow. After several hunters failed to return, and a supply wagon coming from Tolling was attacked, the Ritter asked the Baron to do something about this new threat. First a small scouting party was sent out to investigate the matter; only 2 of the 7 returned.

They brought news that the two tribes seemed to be working together; the taller Coppercross tribe appeared to be in control and many of their warriors seemed to wield some magic and were called witches, while the Brokenbow varkers were more typical of the race, wielding simple clubs and slings. There were also several unknown creatures, believed to be varkers but unusually massive, larger even than uruks. All three types had jet-black fur. To make matters worse, the varkers had taken up residence in Tolling Keep and were massing for a battle. The Baron of the time, Fallas Coel, rightly recognized that the Coppercross and Brokenbow tribes were preparing to raid or even invade the civilized lands of the Human nation. He organized a company of militiamen, almost 200 strong, to make a pre-emptive strike. Baron Fallas led this company himself as they made for Tolling, but they were ambushed on the way, and forced to fall back. Fallas was injured in the ambush, and he ordered his men to retreat without him. Dutifully, the soldiers made their way back to Southwold, where Fallas’ son Ebraen had organized additional troops in defence of the nation.

The varkers made their inevitable strike on Southwold during Little Noer of that year, but arrived in unexpected numbers; the human defenders were outnumbered 3 to 1. Fallas, however, had not been killed but only captured, and he had used his time in captivity productively. He had learned that the hulking varkers were cross-breeds between the two tribes, and were part of the glue holding them together; there was some strife between the tribes and the diminutive Brokenbow were resentful of the Coppercross for luring them into a lopsided arrangement. He was able to convince some of the dim-witted hulks that the Coppercross tribe cared nothing for them except as slaves, and that they should aid their Brokenbow brethren in rebellion. And so it happened that during the Battle of Southwold, the two tribes turned on one another, allowing many of the humans to escape the battle relatively unscathed. They had, however, lost the town and the ancient sawmill that rested there, and Fallas Coel was killed in the battle by Coppercross witches for aiding the rebellion.

What is there? Who is there?

The most notable thing in the town is the sawmill. It is not wind, water, or steam powered, but instead is of ancient design, similar to the Great Well in Audlem. It seems to function through some sort of magic, but how exactly is unknown. The rest of the town has fallen into disrepair in the past decade, and the road passing through Southwold from Grovel to Illsop is now known as the Ruined Road (see map). Also of note is the kirkhall, one of the few buildings maintained by the varkers, which they have turned into a shrine to Fallas Coel, seeing him as something of a saviour for his role in freeing them from the Coppercross. The Baron’s remains and possessions are housed here, and many of the varkers have taken to carrying saeges like those carried in Butter Bay as a sign of reverence to Fallas.

Because of the half-breed hulks’ support of the Brokenbow they were able to win the battle and drive the enemy out of Southwold; the Coppercross retreated to Tolling Keep. The two tribes have been in a state of constant conflict ever since, with battles and raids on both sides and the border between them always shifting. The Coppercross witches have repeatedly led strikes on Southwold itself, trying to seize the magical mill and learn its secrets. The most learned of the Brokenbow have in turn been studying the mill, wishing to use its power to destroy or enslave the Coppercross once and for all. If you were trying to sneak into the town, you would have to deal with regular patrols of the half-breeds on the outskirts, and heavy occupation by regular Brokenbow in the village’s interior.

Geography

Entering the town on the ruined road, you would first pass through a number of small dwellings that the varkers have let fall to ruin. In the core of Southwold are four major buildings, the kirkhall, the mill, a two-storey tenement, and the town’s inn. The mill is much the same as it always was; ancient design made of unmarked charcoal-coloured stone, the design is quite unlike the other buildings, calling out its origins. As mentioned earlier, the kirkhall has been turned into a sort of shrine to Fallas Coel. The inn was heavily damaged in the battle, but the varkers have since repaired it and their leader in the town resides there, using it as his command post; the faded sign reading “The Lost Retreat” still hangs over the shattered front window. The tenement is the only building left that is still used for its original purpose. The majority of the varkers who live in Southwold occupy rooms in the tenement, which comfortably houses about sixty, but the varkers have crammed in eighty or more. A rough trail leads south toward the other Brokenbow camps and the Coppercross stronghold at Tolling.

Adventure Hooks

The former residents of Southwold had to leave much behind in the evacuation, and many militiamen were killed in the battle. Families seeking lost heirlooms, such as the saege knives of those killed, might be willing to pay a hefty reward for the return of those items. The request could even come from Baron Ebraen himself, seeking his fallen father’s saege or signet ring, or even just a part of the body for proper burial.

It might be possible to negotiate with the varkers of Southwold. If your adventurers could offer them insights into the workings of the mill, they may be willing to aid the party, especially if the party’s aims involve taking action against the Coppercross. Your adventurers may be after a specific tome in the library of Tolling, and the books there could lead to a greater understanding of the mill or the Great Well.

Friday: The Alfar Race

Frozen Over Intro: Recent Events

The tranquility of the life in the Bay has been interrupted more often in the century–and-a-half since the Freeze began than before, but those events are rarely more than momentary inconveniences. In the past, raids by varkers seeking resources or merrow seeking slaves happened rarely enough that people needed not always be on guard, and even the odd appearance of a ghast or blackham was swiftly dealt with. Still, in the past decade things have changed, and people no longer even have the illusion of safety and security. The primary contributor to this state is the war.

Origins of the War

Some say that the war has been slowly brewing since the start of the Freeze, owing to Barton Butter revitalizing the people’s faith. One unforeseen consequence of this newfound faith was the conflict that it might bring. Each race has a somewhat different interpretation of belief in Voland. For the alfar and the elben that belief is somewhat more abstract than the other races; they believe that Voland and Bishal are not so much beings as personifications of ideals, ideals of thought. Simply put, the elben believe in reason, while the alfar believe in intuition.

To elaborate, the elben believe that the ideal and correct way to view the world is through the lens of reason and logic, and that decisions should never be made and actions never taken without careful consideration. For the elben Voland represents the supreme intelligence, a being that considered each step of his creation and foresaw the consequences of each decision; Bishal is little more than a wild beast who struck at the first sign of weakness.

On the other hand, the alfar believe that instinct and intuition are far more valuable than reason, allowing one to see the correct course of action in an instant. Agonizing over decisions and over-thinking details leads to nothing except indecision and self torment. They view Voland as a being who in his divide wisdom simply understood all; while Bishal was a scheming and calculating creature who spent long ages plotting against Voland.

These two opposing viewpoints seemed harmless enough at first, but tension grew over time. The event which many agree was the ultimate trigger of the war occurred at the Belltower meeting of 144 YotF. While the Kindred, an organization dominated by alfar, had possessed a Belltower seat for nearly a century, the Academy, an organization dominated by elben, did not. The Academy had petitioned for inclusion in the council for many years, and the matter, which had come to a vote twice before, was once again brought to the floor.

The elben, supported by the humans and uruks, voted in favour, while the alfar, supported by the hodekin and the Kindred, voted against with the Order choosing to remain neutral. The sonnen (human-alfar half-blood) Steward ruled that the Academy would not have a seat. Outraged by this result, the elben and uruk immediately left the meeting, declaring that they would not return until the decision was reversed.

In the months that followed, fights between elben-uruk and alfar-hodekin groups became increasingly common, culminating in a riot in Dunstable outside the Kindred’s lodge in the town. The Seer, leader of the Kindred, demanded that this threat be dealt with, but the human authorities were reluctant to anger the elben and uruk leadership. Ultimately, the Alder and Vidame decided to protect the Kindred themselves, which sparked a declaration of war by the Governor and Graf. A few skirmishes were fought before the spring, but the war did not begin in earnest until the harvest was complete the following autumn. In the three years since, the two sides have fought several major battles and a number of entrenched camps have been built. While healing magic means that fewer soldiers have died than one might expect, that fact has only served to make the deaths that have occurred sting all the more.

Before the War

Prior to the outset of the war, other matters were at the fore. In the late winter of 141 YotF a coordinated varker attack struck the Bay from several directions. Luckily, a hunting party that had ventured into the wilds west of the Friar’s Wall had a run-in with a varker scout and were able to bring a warning in time to rebuff the attack.

In response to increased aggressiveness by merrow in the past decade, Baron Ebraen Coel was organizing a push to secure more territory on the coast so that fishing and whaling vessels would be more secure venturing out into the sea. Construction of ships had already begun in Colvey, Cheslyn, and Wisbech when the crisis relating to the Academy turned violent. This mission was effectively cancelled by the war, with both sides using those ships in their war efforts.

Since the War Began

While the humans and the Order have thus far remained neutral, there are some who would like to change that. A religious group calling themselves the Blackwood Scions has risen in prominence advocating that the humans enter the war on the side of the alfar-hodekin alliance. Their base of operations, the Blackwood Abbey, was founded shortly after the onset of the Freeze by Palaster Sams, a Keeper who believed that the Freeze occurred because Bishal had returned to the world from Nifel through arcane magic. Because of their beliefs the Scions claim that the Academy is little more than a poorly disguised cult to Bishal and must be destroyed. There have been rumours in the last year that the Scions may be plotting to overthrow the Baron to achieve their goals.

The Baron, for his part, is focusing the resources of the human nation on protecting the Bay from merrow whose aggression seems to be ever-increasing. There have also been rumblings of renewed varker attacks, primarily related to the Redfeather varkers near the Riddelmere. One researcher has been warning that Koshac, the varker lich defeated by Barton Butter, is not gone for good and may rally the varkers against the Bay. Few among the citizenry, however, are paying much attention to these other threats with the war so close to home.

Monday: The Calendar used in the Bay

Frozen Over Intro: The Legend of Barton Butter, Part 2

Heartened by this turn of events, Barton and his companions set out to turn back Koshac’s thralls before they reached the Bay. They ventured into the frozen wilds and were set upon by wolves, and varkers, and shaldu, before finally discovering the horde. Knowing their foes numbers and nature, they returned to the Bay to plan a defence, warning towns and villages as they travelled, leading these refugees to a new home. But when they arrived, they found the worst had happened, the people of the Bay were taking up arms against one another.

Barton and his companions spoke once again to the Order and finally gained their support. In an effort to counter the evil that was gripping the people, agents of the Order appeared at every skirmish and battle and interposed themselves between the combatants, declaring that war could not be allowed to occur. All the while, Barton’s companions captured the leaders of the five peoples and brought them together at the Belltower in Dunstable. Barton showed them there what was coming, he brought a captured thrall to them and ordered them to make peace, or face the creature themselves.

With the five peoples joined in a holy vow to defend the Bay from darkness, the armies were united to make a stand in the west. Koshac’s forces had grown in number, and the army of the Bay was vastly outnumbered. Barton stood at their head with Baron, and the Alder, the Graf, and the Governor, and the Vidame and together they led the charge. Unfortunately, the battle was brutal and bloody, and they were forced to retreat.

Their numbers nearly halved, the army was disheartened when they regrouped at the Friar’s Wall. Many wished to return home and see their families once more before they met their fate, others began to bicker and blame one another. But Barton Butter would not have that; he would not allow them to fail now. He thought of Voland, the creator, the wielder of the holy flame, and he lit a torch to ward against the darkness.

Barton walked through the camp, and he sat with group after group, and with each he shared a prayer to Voland. It was not an appeal for strength in a time of desperation; rather it was a prayer of thankfulness for the life they had all been given, thankfulness for the holy flame that burned within each person, thankfulness to the being who would give of itself to aid others. As he left each group, he used his torch to light one for them before moving on. The army drew strength from this prayer, and this gesture, and eventually they all rose from their camps and stood at the ready and awaited the coming dark.

Finally, when night had just barely fallen, on the winter solstice of the second year of the Freeze, the thralls of Koshac appeared. But the army did not charge, they simply waited, torches in hand. And when the thralls drew closer, the army did not draw their weapons, they simply waited, torches in hand. And when the first thrall reached Barton Butter he wielded his torch as a club and set the creature aflame. As wave upon wave of thralls reached the army they were all set ablaze by the flame of the torches. Finally Koshac the Lich himself approached and wielded his dark magic and soldiers fell, but the others did not break, they simply stepped forward to replace their fallen comrades.

Barton Butter himself stepped forth and challenged Koshac, and the two battled. The Lich struck Barton with the cold of death, and Barton struck the Lich with the fire of life. Finally the Lich was set ablaze by Barton’s torch, but Koshac’s skeletal hand gripped Barton tight and the two burned together. In that moment, the battle turned, the thralls became aimless and mindless and the army surged forth and burned the undead beasts to the ground.

Barton Butter’s charred body was laid to rest in the Belltower in Dunstable, and the Bay named for the hero who had brought them all together. The faith of the people was rekindled, and they strove to work together to survive, as they did at the battle of the Friar’s Wall. Barton Butter is what made the Bay different, he is why the Bay survived, but with over a century past since his sacrifice, it is becoming less and less clear if his legacy will last.

Friday: Races

Frozen Over Intro: The Legend of Barton Butter, Part 1

You may ask what made the inhabitants of the Bay different from other people? What made them so special that they survive the hostile world of the Freeze while others starve, or fall on one another in madness? The answer is simple, nothing. There is nothing about the people of the Bay in general that sets them apart. But they did have one force acting in their favour, the presence of a man named Barton Butter.

Barton Butter was a simple man from the fishing village of Butterwatch, founded by his grandfather Hollis. He often served as a mediator of disputes, but rarely voiced any opinions himself. When the Freeze began, and tales of demonic shaldu and undead thralls arrived in the Bay, Barton was among those advocating calm rather than panic. Though private, he was quite pious, and believed that order had to be defended in the face of encroaching chaos.

The Freeze began slowly; for several years the weather was unseasonably cool, but no one thought much of it. The wild and barbaric varkers grew in numbers and boldness, raiding the countryside with increasing frequency. Year by year the spring came a little later, and the winter a little sooner, until one year the Freeze began in earnest. In the height of summer, before the harvest had even begun, a violent blizzard overtook the Bay. It was sudden and strange, and the few who still held tight to their religion prayed to Voland, but there was no reply.

Scattered bands of refugees came from further inland, telling of people who had begun to transform into hideous creatures with fur and horns that breathed waves of ice. Others told of the great city of Fairdon where the dead had risen and consumed everything in their path. Some spoke of turning the refugees away and others spoke of building a great fleet and fleeing across the sea, but with all the fear and uncertainly people began to argue as food grew scarce and tempers frayed. Worsening the situation, a prominent priest from Dunstable proclaimed that the dark god Bishal was claiming the earth in ice and that the final reckoning was upon them.

Through all this Barton Butter tried to do as he had done in the past, he tried to reason with his friends and neighbours, he tried to mediate disputes and organize a fair rationing of what food and supplies they had, but his voice was being drowned out by the cries of anger and panic. Then news came that the varker lich Koshac had grown tired of the ruins of Fairdon and had turned his attention to the Bay, and Barton saw that something had to be done. He tried to appeal to the Baron, but he would not listen. He appealed to the Vidame and the Graf, the Alder and the Governor, but they would not listen either. He appealed to the Deacon of the Order, and the Seer of the Kindred, and the Headmaster of the Academy, but wherever he went his pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears

Barton was despondent. Talk and diplomacy and reason were all he knew and had gotten him nowhere, white the undead army of Koshac was bearing down upon them. But though the leaders had not listened, and the people of the Bay were falling into chaos, all was not lost. In his travels around the Bay, Barton had spoken to many people, and news of his appeals spread, and a small few had decided to take up his cause. And so, in a dim and dingy tavern in Dunstable, on the winter solstice of the first year of the Freeze, a small band of brave souls found Barton Butter, drowning his sorrows in mead.

Wednesday: Part 2