triggered by anyone other than Gúlwelch who touches the drawer. The stolen Tome of Lucid Reason is stashed in the chest, as is his spellbook whenever he’s not using it. Gúlwelch doesn’t want a fight inside the tower. If there’s going to be a fight, he’d prefer that it happen in the bailey. The windows of the tower are tall, narrow, and barred—only a Tiny creature can squeeze through them—and they’re not glazed. When his guards sound the alarm, Gúlwelch will make an owl-powered reconnaissance sweep and try to locate and size up the threat. If it seems fairly minor, he’ll lob a few chromatic orbs, dealing thunder damage, from a narrow upper-floor window (the windows grant him three-quarters cover) in order to test his opponents’ response. If it’s more serious, he’ll cast slow, followed by fireball, then chromatic orb (he keeps his last 3rd-level spell slot in reserve). His hope is to drive the intruders off before they breach the tower. The front window on the third floor has a machicolation that allows him to see—and target—the area in front of the door. It grants him three-quarters cover when he stands over it, total cover when he steps away. (It also allows his owl to exit and enter without squeezing, which it prefers.) Once Gúlwelch begins casting evocation spells, the wall guards will run for the nearest tower that has line of sight on the intruders, while the gate guards rendezvous in the guardroom. They’ll then shoot at the intruders with their crossbows from embrasures in the towers and the guardroom, which give them three-quarters cover. They won’t engage in melee, or venture down into the bailey at all, unless the intruders are either vanquished or in obvious, complete disarray. If his foes breach the tower, Gúlwelch will scramble. First, he’ll cast mage armor. Second, he’ll retreat to the fourth floor—his lab is also his panic room— and close the arcane locked trapdoor behind him. Third, he’ll call his secret chest back from the Ethereal Plane and stash his spellbook, spell scroll of passwall, and research notes inside it, along with the Tome of Lucid Reason. Fourth, he’ll send it back to the Ethereal Plane and pocket the replica chest. Fifth, he’ll take out his dust of disappearance and keep it at the ready. Finally, he’ll wait, as silently as he can, using his owl familiar to scope out what’s happening downstairs.
If it looks like the intruders are going to get into the lab, he’ll toss the dust of disappearance over himself, along with his entire desk, rendering them both invisible. His hope is that his foes, failing to find what they’re looking for, will give up and leave. What he does next will depend on how formidable they seem and how determined they still are to find him, his notes, or his stolen property. If he knows he’s outmatched—especially if his enemies include an assassin—he’ll run for the trapdoor and close it behind him, leaving his foes once again on the wrong side of the arcane lock (unless they bypassed it with knock or dispel magic). He’ll also physically lock it with the key for good measure. Then he’ll cast polymorph to take the form of a common local bird, changing the effect of his Transmuter’s Stone to give him an extra 10 feet of speed as he does so, and fly out the window, over the wall, and into a nearby tree. His owl familiar, meanwhile, will fly up to the roof and wait for him there. Gúlwelch stays in the tree, in bird form, until the spell runs out, then uses his familiar’s eyes and ears to survey the situation and determine whether it’s safe to return. If it’s not—and doesn’t look as though it will be anytime soon—he’ll leave and seek a new home elsewhere. Abandoning the tower will be a painful loss, abandoning his library even more so, but he’ll have his life and the rest of his most valuable assets. If he thinks he can win a fight against the intruders, then he’ll fight—but he won’t fight to the death. As above, he’ll run downstairs while he’s still invisible and slam the trapdoor behind him. In this instance, however, he won’t lock the door, because ultimately he wants them out of his house and in the bailey, where he can set them on fire without damaging his furniture. Instead, he’ll cross the room, take cover in the spiral stair, and wait to see what his opponents do, watching and eavesdropping on them through the upstairs window via owlvision. (He’s particularly keen to see whether anyone finds his desk and triggers the glyph of warding on the drawer.) If they seem to be rendered helpless, he’ll go back upstairs and deal with them; if they come through the door one at a time, he’ll try to pick them off; and if they barge through as a group, he’ll lead them out of the tower and into the bailey, where he can add not only fireball but also blink to his bag of tricks (unfortunately, it doesn’t work
inside the private sanctum). If at any point he takes more than 12 damage, he’ll cast polymorph, changing the effect of his Transmuter’s Stone to give him an extra 10 feet of speed; turn himself into a giant owl; and either fly up to the tower to continue fighting from there or, if the situation looks grim enough, abscond. He has one other trick up his sleeve, but he’ll use it only if his reconnaissance assures him that his enemies are foolish enough to fall for it: After securing his books, notes, and passwall scroll, he’ll throw off his robe, use prestidigitation to soil his clothes, and cast alter self to disguise himself as a household drudge. (As above, he’ll use the casting of this transmutation spell to change the effect of his Transmuter’s Stone to extra speed.) Swearing to the intruders that “the master” is out and imploring them to let him go, he’ll tell them where to find the lab, then run out the front door to the guardroom. From there, he and his guards will attempt to defeat the intruders on their way back out. It’s possible, though, that he won’t have to fight. If his enemies seem amenable to talking, he’ll try to buy them off: first with money (“Whatever they’re paying you, I can pay more!”—which may or may not be true), with the potion of healing thrown in to sweeten the deal if need be; then with spell components, the alchemy jug, and/or the ring of mind shielding if they’re being hard-nosed. If these enticements aren’t enough, he won’t negotiate any further. OceanofPDF.com
THIEVES’ DEN Minimum recommended party: four level 11 or five level 9 PCs The Affinity is a criminal organization in the town of Granwick, founded by a master thief named Kruno Skriven and a few of his associates. ASSETS See box, page 7. DEFENSE The Affinity’s first line of defense is concealment. Granwick is densely built, especially near the center of town, with row buildings being the dominant type. The Affinity operates out of a den that spans the cellars of four adjacent buildings, three of which contain legitimate businesses (a tailor shop, a general merchant, and a chandler) and one of which, a bread bakery, is a front. There are two main entrances used by guild members: one in the bakery, which is guarded by two thugs, and one a few steps below street level, in an alley at the end of the row. There are also two concealed emergency exits for use in the event of a raid or attack, but these can’t be opened from outside; they’re difficult to find even if one is actively searching for them. The streets around the Affinity’s den are an uncontrolled area, but they’re watched by a passel of street urchins who are being trained in thieving by members of the guild. Anyone seen snooping around in the vicinity will find themselves surrounded by a crowd of three guttersnipes (see appendix B) per target, loudly begging for handouts. While two hold the attention of each target, the third attempts to make off with their purse (with advantage, since their allies are distracting the target). As soon as a target notices the theft, either during the attempt or afterward, the guttersnipes scatter, giving any adult Affinity member they run across a description of the nosy targets.
The guttersnipes aren’t hard to catch, but they lie freely: You should knock on the door twice, then once, then twice again. The password is “strawberry tarts.” You can get into the den from the tailor’s shop upstairs. The entrance the thieves use is on the opposite side of the building. The mechanism to defeat the poison dart trap on the main door (there isn’t one) is hidden behind a loose, discolored brick (the bricks are many different colors). Murat Demirji on Iron Street will tell you the password if you tell him you’re there to see Sergeant Bash (that’s what the orc blacksmith calls his largest hammer, and he’ll chase anyone who asks to see it out of his shop, with Sergeant Bash in hand). It takes a successful DC 20 Charisma (Deception, Intimidation, or Persuasion) check to elicit the information that the Affinity owns the bakery and that the cellar door in the alley leads into the organization’s den. The cellar entrance is both locked—the lock is difficult to pick—and barred, and there’s always a door guard on duty behind it, who responds to any attempt to break down the door by preparing a net trap to drop on the first person through it. No one is admitted through the door without delivering the correct countersign, which varies constantly according to a simple but nonobvious formula: The door guard calls out a phrase containing a number (e.g., “Come back at eleven!”), and the reply must contain the difference of twelve minus that number (e.g., “I just have to take care of one thing”) and may not include the name of any member of the Affinity. Delivering an incorrect reply in thieves’ cant elicits a semipolite refusal (e.g., “Don’t know you, flash. Come back at eleven or don’t come back at all”), while any other reply is met with silence, and the members inside go on alert for the next 24 hours. If one takes the door phrase literally and goes back to the door at eleven o’clock, a different guard calls out a different phrase (e.g., “You want upstairs, three doors down”). The door then opens to any reply that contains the word “nine” and doesn’t name any member of the Affinity; any improper reply puts the den on alert. The common room just inside the door is the den’s main battle area. Most hours of the day, it contains fifteen thugs and six prowlers (see appendix B). However, if one can stake out the street undetected for twenty-four hours, one can determine that the den is least active between dawn and noon. If intruders
crash the gate during these hours, there will be only eight thugs and three prowlers in the common room. OceanofPDF.com
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One of the thugs is on door duty and has full cover from the door if a fight breaks out until they close it again. The many tables in the room provide half cover against ranged attacks across them; crouching behind a table confers threequarters cover. The room offers an abundance of items that can be used as improvised weapons: heavy stoneware and iron mugs (1 bludgeoning damage), chairs and tables (1d4 bludgeoning), the door itself (1d4 bludgeoning), and hearth irons (1d6 bludgeoning). During colder months, hot coals from the hearth can be flung for 1d4 fire damage; on a critical hit, rather than take an additional die of damage, the target is blinded for 1 minute. One prowler in the room, seated at the table nearest to the ale casks, carries a dose of drow poison (see Dungeon Master’s Guide, chapter 8, “Poisons”); on their first turn after combat breaks out, they’ll crouch for cover and use their action to apply the poison to a crossbow bolt. The next turn, they’ll shoot at any easy-looking target, favoring ones who look like long-range spellcasters. One member of the Affinity, Marcelline Anker, is a devotee of Grim, the god of thieves (use the priest stat block with the following spells: light, sacred flame, thaumaturgy, charm person, guiding bolt, sanctuary, mirror image, spiritual weapon, blink, dispel magic; she wields a baselard instead of a mace, dealing 1d6 piercing damage on a hit). She maintains a shrine to Grim in the inner vestibule at the bottom of the stairs from the bakery, outside the den’s meeting room. She deals with any intruders who wander down the stairs; if overwhelmed, she retreats into the common room for backup. She’ll also provide backup to the thugs and prowlers in the common room if she hears a fight break out there. Between dawn and noon, she’s elsewhere. The door from the bakery cellar to the general store cellar is locked at all times, requiring the key and the knob to be turned simultaneously; only Kruno and his four lieutenants have copies of the key. The lock is difficult to pick (DC 20). This cellar and the one beneath the chandlery are a restricted area: No one goes back there except in the company of Kruno or a lieutenant. The cellar of the general store is a training area, armory, and warehouse. Froki, the Affinity’s master lockpicker, and Rinald Suprim, its chief fence, spend most of their time in the training room (see appendix B for stat blocks). There are usually three thugs in the training room as well, receiving instruction
from Froki. Gratien Querre (see appendix B) is in charge of the armory, where he keeps track of the equipment supply. He can see—and shoot—into the training room through a barred window. If a fight breaks out there, he’ll take cover alongside the window and snipe at targets through it. (The fourth lieutenant, a loan shark named Antlas the Purse, is never encountered on the premises.) Froki will crouch behind a table and shoot at intruders with her crossbow, while Rinald will try to slip unnoticed through a secret door and warn Kruno. The door to the armory from the hallway is locked. Not only is the lock difficult to pick, a failed attempt triggers a needle trap. The character attempting to pick the lock takes 1 piercing damage and must succeed on a DC 15 Constitution saving throw or be poisoned for 1 minute; while poisoned, they’re also paralyzed. The character can make another saving throw at the end of each of their turns. On a success, they’re no longer paralyzed, but they remain poisoned for the duration. Also, outside the door to the warehouse, there’s a pressure plate trap that triggers a loud alarm. The plate requires a successful DC 20 Intelligence (Investigation) or Wisdom (Perception) check to spot, and a DC 15 Intelligence (Investigation) check to find the concealed slider switch that allows one to stand on the plate without setting off the alarm. (Affinity members always reset the switch after they’re done bringing loot into the warehouse.) Ordinary loot is kept in the warehouse. At any given time, it amounts to about 200 gp worth of nonmagical martial weapons, fine clothes, artisans’ tools, musical instruments, trade goods, silver or gold trade bars, and art objects. If the den is raided, the members grab what they can on their way out the secret door in back, but they don’t make any particular effort to secure it otherwise. They can always steal more. The door in the corner of the training room is a fake, opening onto a brick wall. To penetrate farther into the den, one must pass through a difficult-to-spot secret door that leads into a wide hallway. Two thugs stand guard in the hallway, unless the den is on alert, in which case the hallway is empty, but four thugs accompany Kruno Skriven (see appendix B) in his office. In his desk, Kruno keeps the enciphered ledger of payoffs to local officials and city guards, businesses paying the Affinity for protection, and payments to
individuals within or associated with the organization; the floor plan of the nobleman’s manor; and the intercepted letter. There are two secret doors behind his desk. The one in the corner, which leads to an emergency exit, is difficult to discover but simple to operate (no check required). However, the other is very hard to see, and its mechanism is hard to work out, involving several disguised latches that enable other disguised latches to be operated. It leads to the treasury where the Affinity keeps its ready money. Marcelline has cast a glyph of warding on the floor where the double doors to Kruno’s office meet. The glyph is triggered by a bronze token that Kruno keeps on his desk. In case of emergency, he’ll toss it at the glyph. When the token makes contact with the glyph, it erupts with acid, dealing 5d8 acid damage to every creature within 20 feet that fails a DC 13 Dexterity saving throw (half damage on a success). Then, while his thug bodyguards—and Rinald, if he’s there—engage in melee, Kruno takes shots at his enemies with his crossbow. These thugs, handpicked for their loyalty, will fight to the death. Rinald won’t: He flees when reduced to 22 hp or fewer, and if prevented from fleeing, he surrenders. If even one of Kruno’s bodyguards goes down, or if he’s reduced 58 hp or fewer, Kruno makes his escape through the secret door in the rear right corner of the room. At the rear of the treasury are two doors. The one in the right-hand corner appears as an ordinary door, with one exception: There are a handle and latch only on the inside. Once one goes out this door, one can’t come back in by it. The one in the middle of the wall is heavy iron, with sturdy hinges designed so that the pins can’t be removed. It has an intricately tooled, raised lock with a uniquely shaped keyhole and complicated wards; it’s very hard to pick. Kruno carries a key that fits the keyhole, but this key alone won’t open the door, because there’s a second keyhole hidden in the lock plate behind a sliding cover. The second keyhole is very hard to find and hard to pick; it’s opened by an additional key that’s kept in a hard-to-find secret compartment in Kruno’s desk. Behind the iron door is the vault where the Affinity keeps its most valuable treasures: its platinum coins, gems, and magic items, and the crate of orbs. If the den isn’t on alert, Kruno will be wary of strangers but willing to listen to what they have to say, although for purposes of social interaction checks he’s
hostile, and his bargaining position is strong. He holds a good hand with the local authorities; any threat to shut him and his guild down is empty, and he knows it. The one appeal to his self-interest that has a chance of succeeding is to note that the guild’s possession of such destructive objects as the one used at the Blind Squirrel tavern is sure to attract the interest—and envy—of more powerful organizations. To change Kruno’s assessment of their relative bargaining positions, intruders will have to inflict significant damage upon the guild, e.g., killing more than half its members and killing or subduing at least one other member of its leadership (Froki, Gratien, or Rinald). As soon as he judges himself to be in the weaker position, however, he’ll trigger the glyph of warding, grab the payoff records, and skedaddle. There is one possible way, however, to achieve a mutually agreeable outcome with Kruno: Froki is an artiste, a master craftswoman. She values skill and finds brute force distasteful. Maintaining respect is one thing, and so is having leverage, but blowing random people up for no good reason is something else entirely. Not only is it clumsy, it attracts the wrong kind of attention—from the authorities and from rivals. As long as outsiders play it cool and say or do anything to indicate that they’re just there for information about the orbs, Froki can flip. If Kruno is present, she can take the outsiders’ side in negotiations, giving them advantage or simply persuading him outright; if he’s gone, she can let them into his office and show them the intercepted letter. She’ll accept remuneration for this, but she won’t require it. It’s a matter of dignity. There’s one room I haven’t mentioned: The one on the other side of the hallway that leads to Kruno’s office. That’s the interrogation room. It has a lockable door, but the door is only locked when the Affinity has a prisoner it wants to question. Gratien and Kruno are the only ones with the key. The lock is hard to pick. The room also has two chains with manacles, bolted to the far wall; a wooden chair; and a chamber pot. It’s unlit, and it smells bad. Kruno does the questioning. OceanofPDF.com
UNICORN GROVE Minimum recommended party: four level 10 or five level 9 PCs Onhorn Wood is the legendary home of the unicorn Gorfoledd, although over the centuries, only a scant few can honestly claim to have seen him. In local folklore, Gorfoledd is said to have offered sanctuary to heroes when they needed it, but residents of nearby villages mostly avoid the forest today, and for good reason: Those who enter hoping to hunt or cut timber in the wood rarely make it more than a few hundred feet inside before becoming delirious and passing out, reawakening later back on the edge of the wood. A few old hedge witches, however, say the forest is only a threat to those of impure heart, and they sometimes bring the ill or injured into the forest for healing, claiming their spells and remedies work better there. They typically leave garlands of flowers as tribute to thank Gorfoledd for allowing these intrusions. Both the old and new stories are true. Those humbly seeking wisdom, taking advantage of the grove’s healing properties, or fleeing unnatural evils are permitted to enter the wood for a short while, but neither Gorfoledd nor the other denizens of Onhorn Wood tolerate trespassing for self-centered reasons— and the whole wrath of Onhorn is unloaded on any evil creature that crosses its boundary. ASSETS Onhorn Wood. The sanctity of the grove itself is inviolable (intrinsic value: 4, intangible value: 4). Gorfoledd allows only those of good nature and honest intent to set foot in it. Total value: 8. Gorfoledd. The other denizens of the grove are honored by the unicorn’s presence (intangible: 4) and serve faithfully as his scouts and guards. They defend his life as if it were their own (intrinsic value: 4). Total value: 8.
Lives of the innocent. Gorfoledd, in turn, defends the lives of all those who come seeking his protection from evil creatures (intrinsic: 4). Total value: 4. Treasure. Gorfoledd has a small stash of material treasure, including a mithral breastplate; it’s of secondary concern to him, but occasionally it kindles the desire of thieves and opportunists (monetary value: 2, operational value: 1). Total value: 3. Gorfoledd rests during the day atop a hill in the heart of the grove (A), where he also keeps his treasures, hidden under a layer of leaves. At night, he roams the wood, secure in the knowledge that the other denizens of the grove will deal with any trespassers long before they get anywhere near his treasures. DEFENSE Onhorn Wood is old-growth oak forest of varying density. The trees grow to a diameter of between 5 and 10 feet; the gently hilly ground of the grove is largely free of treacherous underbrush, so the terrain isn’t difficult. However, any lit torch brought into the wood is snuffed out instantly, and anyone who tries to light a campfire can’t get the tinder to catch. In addition to Gorfoledd the unicorn, the grove is inhabited by pixies, sprites, dryads, faerie dragons, and centaurs, along with wolves and various other birds and small beasts. Thanks to the unicorn’s presence, all these creatures gain advantage on Dexterity (Stealth) checks in the grove. The wolves roam in a pack and play an incidental part in the defense of the grove: They’re friendly, even tame, with creatures that Gorfoledd considers welcome in the grove, but they stalk and attack unwanted guests, and the sounds of the hunt draw the attention of other denizens nearby. Two mated pairs of centaurs dwell in the woods: Velox and Ventosa, Transiliens and Nitidus. As part of their everyday wanderings, they conduct aggressive reconnaissance, shooting at anyone they deem unwelcome. They don’t engage in melee; instead, if chased, they shout warnings in Sylvan while leading trespassers toward a less dense area of the wood (B), away from Gorfoledd’s hill, where the trespassers will find themselves caught out in the
open and surrounded, and where there are straight, open lanes between trees through which Gorfoledd and the centaurs can charge. Reconnaissance is also conducted by six dryads, ten pixies, and five faerie dragons. The dryads and faerie dragons move about individually; the pixies all move together in one flight. Unlike the centaurs, when they spot strangers, they remain hidden—the dryads casting pass without trace in order to get closer to the targets of their observation, the pixies and faerie dragons using their Superior Invisibility. If the strangers are welcome, they may either remain hidden and continue to watch, hurry off to let Gorfoledd know his help is needed, or appear to the strangers and lead them to Gorfoledd’s hill. If the strangers are intruders, they gather as much information as they can, then get the word out that intruders are present. The dryads, which can’t turn invisible, use Tree Stride to move rapidly through the forest until they encounter another denizen of the grove and report what they’ve seen. The pixies and faerie dragons cry out warnings in Sylvan, filling the air with shrieky, apparently sourceless noises incomprehensible to anyone who doesn’t speak the language. Once the grove is on alert, the centaurs gallop to the intruders’ location and shoot at them, again attempting to bait them toward the desired battle area, while the dryads, pixies, and faerie dragons rush to get to their battle positions there first. Upon the intruders’ arrival, the centaurs give a shout, and the dryads and five of the pixies cast multiple entangle spells on the ground around and beneath the intruders, while four of the remaining pixies cast fly on the centaurs. From that point on, the dryads and pixies stay out of the fight as the striking force takes over: Eighty sprites, enveloping the main battle area in eight flights of ten, all appear out of invisibility and loose their teeny poisoned arrows at the intruders at once. (Get your Dungeon Master’s Guide open to the Mob Attacks table in chapter 8.) Meanwhile, the faerie dragons remain outside the ring of sprites to harass whoever tries to get away. The sprites attack until the intruders are in complete disarray. At that point, the centaurs swoop in—literally, since they’re airborne thanks to the pixies’ fly spells—and deliver coups de grâce with their pikes. If the intruders are PCs, you can be merciful and make these melee attacks nonlethal; the PCs will wake up
again just outside Onhorn Wood, full of contusions and regrets. If they’re evil creatures, the centaurs simply demolish them. OceanofPDF.com
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On the other hand, if even an eighty-sprite-plus-four-flying-centaur assault isn’t enough to subdue the transgressors, there’s one final option: Gorfoledd himself arrives, the beneficiary of a fly spell from the one remaining pixie that didn’t cast it. And he’s in no mood to play. RANDOM ENCOUNTERSIN ONHORN WOOD Roll once every 10 minutes once the party enters the wood. d20 Encounter 1–6 1 dryad, under pass without trace (DC 30 to detect) 7–11 1 faerie dragon, hidden using Superior Invisibility (DC 22 to detect using hearing) 12 Pack of 1d6 + 3 wolves (DC 19 to detect) 13 Flight of 10 pixies, hidden using Superior Invisibility (DC 22 to detect using hearing) 14 2 centaurs 15 Flight of 10 sprites, hidden using Invisibility (DC 23 to detect using hearing), only if within 150 feet of main battle area; otherwise no encounter 16–19 No encounter 20 Gorfoledd, under pass without trace (DC 27 to detect). If the PCs’ intentions are proper, he emerges and hails them; if not, he leaves without revealing himself and notifies another denizen of the forest to raise the alarm. If this encounter is the first in the grove, roll again. OceanofPDF.com
VAMPIRE MANSION Minimum recommended party: four level 10 or five level 9 PCs Lia Eigensinn never shows her face outside Herrenhaus Scharfberg, her mansion on the Diethersstrasse in the city of Weissenburg. Her neighbors attribute her reclusiveness to age, infirmity, and perhaps eccentricity. They’d be stunned to discover that Lia is, in fact, the very picture of youthful beauty, vigor, and sophistication. Like many portraits, however, this one lies. Her neighbors have come and gone, but Lia has lived at Herrenhaus Scharfberg for the last 275 years, having inherited it from her late husband, Roman Scharfberg, the last of the Scharfberg line. Theirs was a curious pairing, since the Scharfbergs were sworn enemies of the Eigensinn family, and also since all of Roman’s living relatives met untimely and violent deaths over a relatively short span of time before he and Lia married. Few today remember those events, though: Memories are short, scandals are many, and Lia is now considered a curiosity, when she’s considered at all. Occasionally, someone has a “Wait a minute!” moment and realizes just how long Lia has lived at Herrenhaus Scharfberg. Invariably, the thought is followed by the conclusion that she must have a dash of elvish ancestry, then discarded. The sinister truth is that Lia is a vampire—as was Roman. In fact, it was he who made her one, albeit unintentionally. Intending to deliver both insult and injury to the Eigensinn family, Roman turned Lia into a vampire spawn, but he never reckoned with the strength of her will. Seizing an opportunity, she shackled him while he was resting in his coffin, then fed from him, becoming a full-fledged vampire herself. She used her newly acquired power to exact revenge against the Scharfbergs, one by one. Then, forging marriage papers and staging an elopement, she “married” Roman. Finally, shortly thereafter, she dispatched him (she’d kept him chained the whole time) and inherited ownership of Herrenhaus Scharfberg.
ASSETS Grave. Every vampire needs one. Lia’s is in Herrenhaus Scharfberg. Because Roman kept Lia’s death a secret, she never received a proper burial, so she has to rest in the house where she was made a vampire spawn —and she lacks a large enough quantity of grave dirt to establish any other resting place elsewhere (operational value: 4). This fact makes her grave at Herrenhaus Scharfberg her most critical asset, even if it’s not her most valuable. Total value: 4. Trophies. For every member of the Scharfberg family she killed, Lia keeps a memento (intangible value: 4). Most of these trophies are pieces of jewelry or other artfully made personal items. Taken as a collection, they’re worth more than 30,000 gp; they’d definitely catch a burglar’s eye (monetary value: 3). Total value: 7. Herrenhaus Scharfberg. The mansion as a whole is an asset of considerable worth, but Lia can’t ascribe monetary or economic value to it, because as long as she resides there, it can’t be sold. It does, however, have both operational value (4) and, as her final trophy, intangible value (4). Total value: 8. Money. Both the Eigensinns and the Scharfbergs were wealthy families, and Lia has carefully husbanded their combined wealth, maintaining it by lending money at interest through intermediaries. It’s not quite enough to live like an aristocrat on, but it does allow her to continue to live in luxury. She keeps 18,100 gp and 3,370 pp in coin and forty-six gold bars worth 250 gp each in her house (monetary value: 3). Total value: 3. Contracts. Owning property and lending money require keeping records (economic value: 4, regulatory value: 4). These documents are sensitive, because a forger could produce convincing fakes and seize control of Lia’s assets. (She should know: It’s how she acquired Herrenhaus Scharfberg.) Total value: 8. Lia. Vampires have a powerful self-preservation impulse (intrinsic value: 4). Total value: 4.
Vampire spawn. For the most part, Lia is coldly logical, but domination of others gives her a thrill; she also retains a love of music that becoming a vampire hasn’t taken from her. Consequently, over the decades, she’s made vampire spawn of several victims whose musicianship pleased her. She doesn’t consider their lives intrinsically valuable, but she enjoys both their companionship and her mastery over them (intangible value: 3). Total value: 3. Conveniently, the asset with the greatest total value to Lia is also the one hardest to walk off with: the house. As long as Lia takes adequate measures to protect herself and her papers, no one can steal it from her. Inconveniently, however, it’s not difficult to destroy a house: All you have to do is set it on fire. Lia therefore needs a way to watch the exterior and make sure her property is secured against arson. For a vampire in the city, that’s easier said than done—but it has to be done. Tied to the house are her contracts, followed by her trophies. These appeal to two entirely different groups of crooks: the latter to common thieves, the former to exceptional thieves. In both cases, one has to know about the asset to steal it, but it’s not hard to guess that a rich old lady in a 10,000-square-foot mansion might have something worth stealing. Neither of these assets is especially vulnerable, but the contracts are highly sensitive, and she can’t risk losing them —not if she wants to live in the manner to which she’s accustomed for the next three hundred years. She must allocate additional resources to their protection. The trophies aren’t critical, but given the circumstances under which she won them, Lia’s not just going to let them go. A balance must be struck. Next come her life and her grave—not all that much difference between the two, when you think about it, except that she’s independently mobile and her dirt isn’t. The challenge is that, once she’s taken due precautions to protect Herrenhaus Scharfberg, her papers, and her trophies, she’s not going to have a ton of resources left with which to protect her grave or herself. She can take care of herself, but she’ll have to find resource-efficient ways to protect her grave. Last come her spawn and her money, another pairing of something that can defend itself and something that can’t. She’ll leave her spawn to their own
devices and use the simplest available means to protect her money. DEFENSE Any defensive plan must account for the fact that a vampire requires blood, and that blood has to come from somewhere. Anything over twenty murders per year in a city of roughly forty thousand people is going to be noticed… if the victims are people anyone cares about. So Lia is careful in her choice of victims: late-night revelers whose disappearances can be written off as drunken accidents, burglars, beggars, vagabonds, and strangers in town. Her steward and principal agent, Radu, who handles all her worldly affairs, keeps his ears open for news of political unrest in other lands, and occasionally lets it be known that Lia might sympathize with and even donate money to a rebel’s cause. Those rebels rarely cause any further trouble in their homelands. Still, one cannot live on revolutionaries alone, and occasionally Lia and her spawn must venture out to seek prey for themselves. Multiple deaths on a single night draw too much attention, so as a rule, only Lia or one of her spawn goes out to hunt at any given time. Lia wears a ring of imposture (see appendix A) so that she can slip under the radar of anyone trying to sense the presence of undead creatures. Lia also has to be careful, as she hunts, that she doesn’t unintentionally create new vampire spawn. She’s selective in her choice of company and doesn’t need other predators competing with her. To clean up after herself, she keeps a semidomesticated otyugh in her cellar cesspit. Meticulously draining her victims to a point just short of killing them, she then gives them to the monster for efficient disposal. Despite being rich, Lia has limited funds to work with when it comes to hiring help—and she can’t let any of her hirelings live off-premises, lest they blab about her to the wrong people. Thus, while she has the charisma to command a regiment, she has to make do with Radu, two trained guards, and five terrified household servants, intimidated into silence. (Her Charm ability is strong, but it’s not reliable enough for day-in, day-out use on an entire household staff.) The guards are veterans, and each one patrols the grounds with a well-trained mastiff. Otto, a human, patrols from dawn to dusk; Mesnik, a half-orc with darkvision, patrols from dusk to dawn. Otto and Mesnik will confront
trespassers and demand to know their business, but their chief responsibility is to sound the alarm. In most cases, the mastiffs’ barking suffices for this purpose. Just in case, however, each guard carries a hunting horn. The servants (commoners) don’t take part in the house’s defense, nor does Radu (a noble), except to put out fires. The property is surrounded by a 10-foot-high wrought-iron fence, topped with sharply spiked finials. The iron gate is locked at all times, although the lock is only moderately difficult to pick; its purpose is to deter casual trespassers, not determined ones. The gate is opened only for Lia or Radu—Radu whenever he comes and goes, Lia when she ventures out at night by carriage, driven by Radu —and Radu carries the only key. The vampire spawn of Herrenhaus Scharfberg simply climb over the fence. Hidden across the grounds of the house (DC 20 to detect) are several simple traps (A) that deal damage to intruders (+5 to hit, dealing 2d10 damage on a hit) and restrain them (DC 10 Strength saving throw to escape). More important, whether or not the traps catch a trespasser, they’re loud when triggered, spoiling trespassers’ attempts at stealth—and causing the mastiffs, which have Keen Hearing and Smell, to start barking their heads off. The lock on the front door of the house is a warded lock of higher quality than the one on the gate; it’s hard to pick. The windows are simple glass, but they don’t open. Breaking them is easy (AC 13, 4 hp) but, again, not quiet. Also, the draperies are animate constructs (use the rug of smothering stat block, two per window) that attack any stranger who touches them. That’s a mistake that intruders aren’t going to make twice—and it will discourage them from running around the house, throwing open all the curtains, and letting the sunlight stream in. Nothing about Herrenhaus Scharfberg’s outward appearance or external defenses is significantly unlike the house’s neighbors along the Diethersstrasse (the regional effects around her lair are suppressed—they’re much too hairraising for an urban location), and would-be intruders who are conspicuously skulking around and casing the joint—let alone picking locks, jumping fences, or breaking windows—will attract the same sort of attention as they would in
Beverly Hills. The overall inadvisability of loitering in a rich neighborhood is yet another of the home’s amenities. Which is good for Lia, because massing guard power isn’t an available option for her—and as previously mentioned, she has to worry about the possibility of being firebombed. It’s a low probability, but it’s one of the easiest ways an enemy could hurt her, so she has to head it off. To counter this threat, she keeps Regenmacher’s rainsticks (see appendix A) hidden in several key locations (B) around the first floor of the house; Radu carries one as well. Everyone in the house knows to grab one at the first whiff of smoke and use it to put out any incipient fire. Other than that, she and her four vampire spawn make up the entirety of her active response to intrusion, and at night, either Lia or one of the spawn is generally out hunting, leaving only the four spawn or three of them plus Lia. If the house comes under attack while Lia is out, one of the vampire spawn, before joining the fight, runs up to the top floor and lights a lantern in an otherwise unused room (C) that’s visible from the front of the house. When Lia returns and sees that light on, she exits her carriage, turns into a cloud of mist, and enters through the chimney while Radu opens the gate and parks the carriage. While intruders react to the creaking and clanking of the gate, the vampire chooses where she’ll make her stand. However, the house does contain a number of passive response measures. For starters, the entire mansion is a restricted area, and each floor is more restricted than the one before it. Additionally, there are three sets of stairs: the “main” stairs, the servants’ stairs, and secret stairs that only Lia, Radu, and Lia’s spawn use. No one who lives in the house uses the ostensible main stairs, making them primo locations for traps. These traps are simple, triggered by pressure plates, and not difficult to detect (DC 15), but they’re dangerous: One shoots four bolts with the force of a heavy crossbow (+8 to hit, 1d10 piercing damage each), and one releases a spray of acid (DC 15 Dexterity save against 4d10 acid damage, half damage on a success). The real problem, though, is that the pressure plates are sized and situated so that one can’t easily jump over them or walk around them. They’re there to send intruders into a doom spiral of analysis paralysis while the undead inhabitants of Herrenhaus Scharfberg chase them down.
Meanwhile, the servants’ stairs are hidden from view, as in any mansion of quality, and the secret stairs—shockingly enough—are behind secret doors, which are very hard to spot. OceanofPDF.com
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The fourth floor of the house contains only one room, which has no windows; from the outside, it’s disguised as an architectural feature, part of the third-floor façade. This room contains Lia’s grave. (The conventional wisdom holds that vampires’ coffins are hidden in underground crypts, so Lia keeps hers upstairs.) It’s accessed through a very hard-to-find secret trapdoor in the coffered ceiling of the room below; only the most discerning eye can tell that the former cathedral ceiling has been closed off. There’s no ladder: Lia either Spider Climbs to reach the trapdoor or slips past it in mist form. It isn’t airtight, but the design of the ceiling makes the gap invisible from below. Lia’s trophy collection and study are on the third floor. Each is at the end of a wing of the mansion, behind a hard-to-detect secret door, and neither has any windows. Lia keeps her most sensitive papers in a very hard-to-find hidden compartment within a locked drawer of her desk; the lock is of the highest quality she could obtain, very difficult to pick. As a decoy, she’s coated a locked cabinet elsewhere in her study with lacquer of dissimulation (see appendix A) to make it appear to have evocation magic placed upon it. This cabinet also contains a hidden compartment, but the only thing in it is a dart trap—and this trap doesn’t mess around (DC 20 to detect, DC 20 Dexterity save vs. 10d10 acid damage, half damage on a success). She keeps her money in her study as well, in three locked chests—one for platinum coins, one for gold coins, and one for gold bars—which all have hard-to-pick locks and poison needle traps triggered by failed attempts to pick them (see Dungeon Master’s Guide, chapter 5, “Traps”). Many rooms on the second and third floors (D) have doors with spring locks that can be opened only from the outside, with keys—like privacy locks, but in reverse. A large part of Lia’s self-defense strategy hangs on charming enemies and splitting them up; these rooms give her a way to keep them split up. Aside from the front door, there’s only one other way in and out of the house: a second-floor casement window (E), used by the vampire spawn. A former kitchen delivery entrance has been blocked in with rubble. Radu is awake during the day, and most days, when he doesn’t have business to take care of elsewhere, he’s available to keep an eye on things around the house and put out any fires (figuratively or literally). He also handles all messages
and deliveries. He’s not equipped to fight off intruders, however. Instead, he uses his persuasive skills to talk them into relaxing and making themselves comfortable until “the lady of the house” is available to meet with them and discuss mutually agreeable arrangements that serve the parties’ respective interests, and he shows them to a nice first-floor parlor where they can sit and enjoy the hospitality of Herrenhaus Scharfberg and not get into any trouble. If trouble starts, Radu runs to notify Lia (if she’s around) or one of the vampire spawn (if she’s not). As soon as she’s notified of a threat—or sees the light in the window, if she’s been out, and comes inside—Lia summons her Children of the Night as backup. Initially, however, she lets her vampire spawn do the bulk of the fighting for her while she confirms that her assets are still safe. The vampire spawn don’t bring overwhelming force the way a large mass of guards would, but they are extremely tough, and Lia would rather have them in harm’s way than herself. When she’s checked on her assets and verified that they remain in her possession, she returns—in mist form—to the scene of the battle to see where things stand. If they’re going poorly for her side, she sends the Children of the Night in as a distraction, then enters the battle herself, still not committing herself fully but seizing what opportunities present themselves. Ideally, however, she’d prefer to win without fighting, and she’ll happily strike a deal to avoid a violent confrontation that she can’t win, as long as she’s left with her house, her wealth, and her freedom to feed. This attitude is both pragmatic and essential: Lia has no other resting place to retire to in the event of a rout, so if combat ensues, she has no choice but to fight to the bitter end in defense of Herrenhaus Scharfberg. Thanks to her Misty Escape trait, if her assailants can’t find her grave upstairs, she may yet recover to exact her revenge another day. OceanofPDF.com
HAG COVEN COTTAGE Minimum recommended party: four level 12 or five level 10 PCs Locals say Griselda Sumphew was the first to take up residence in Blackalder Swamp, near the village of Ormood, but no one can remember a time when she wasn’t accompanied there by her “sisters,” Hilda and Matilda. (The prevailing opinion is that they aren’t actually related, but they’re referred to as “the Sumphew Sisters” nonetheless.) For as long as they’ve been around, Blackalder Swamp has been a gloomy and forbidding place that only fools venture into. Whenever misfortune strikes Ormood, or one of its residents, fingers are pointed in the direction of the swamp. While the Sumphew Sisters may be convenient scapegoats for chance mishaps or the villagers’ own wrongdoings, in many cases the locals’ suspicions are justified, for Griselda, Hilda, and Matilda are a trio of green hags that have formed a coven to increase their power. ASSETS Curiosities. The Sumphew Sisters are hoarders. Their cottage is full of stolen items of little beauty and less value that nevertheless possess some quality that piqued the hags’ interest for a moment. That moment is gone; their only value now lies in the fact that the jealous hags won’t relinquish anything they consider to belong to them (intangible value: 1). Total value: 1. Caged creatures. The lives of these poor beasts and birds don’t matter a bit to the Sumphew Sisters, except to the extent that they enjoy the creatures’ misery in captivity (intangible value: 1). They’re fed just enough to keep them alive and miserable. Total value: 1. Gems, jewelry, and art objects. By happenstance, the Sisters have managed to obtain some genuinely beautiful items: an ivory comb with mother-of-pearl inlay, a pair of silver statuettes, an artfully crafted golden
pin, an understatedly elegant gold collar necklace, and eighteen semiprecious stones. If sold, these objects could fetch a fair amount of money (monetary value: 2). The hags assign no intangible value to these items themselves—in fact, they find the items’ beauty repugnant to look upon and keep them hidden away—but they know that mortals would find them appealing, and that’s reason enough not to let anyone else have them (intrinsic value: 2). Total value: 4. Money. Predation pays. Since teaming up, the Sumphew Sisters have managed to accumulate quite a stash: roughly 2,100 cp, 24,000 sp, 6,000 gp, and 330 pp (monetary value: 3). They don’t use it for anything, though, nor do they assign it any importance, except to the extent that it’s satisfying to them to keep it out of anyone else’s hands. Total value: 3. Common magic items. Every once in a while, some poor fool comes to the Sumphew Sisters thinking they might help with something. To string them along, the hags craft simple magic items, such as potions of healing, to offer as boons, the better to feed their supplicants’ delusion. In return, they demand either material payment or, more often, some knife-twisting favor. The items’ role in these bargains gives them a crude, minimal sort of economic value (1). Other common items are created solely for the Sisters’ own amusement (substitute intangible value for economic value); at the moment, these include a hat of vermin, a pot of awakening, and a staff of birdcalls (see Xanathar’s). Total value: 1. Uncommon magic items. Bigger problems call for more sophisticated lures. These items—a potion of animal friendship, a potion of growth, and a potion of hill giant strength—represent enough effort and application of power that they possess some value to the hags in and of themselves (intrinsic value: 1), increasing the prices the Sisters demand for them. These more tempting boons are one means by which the hags achieve much of the corruption that delights them so (operational value: 1). They could fetch a decent amount of money if sold (monetary value: 1), and if the common magic items have economic value by virtue of what the hags can get others to do for them, the uncommon items have more of the same (economic value: 2). Total value: 5.
Spell components. Practical magic consumes a lot of material components. These could be sold wholesale to a magic shop (monetary value: 1), but for the Sumphew Sisters, they’re worth far more as raw materials (operational value: 4). Total value: 5. Trophies. As the Sumphew Sisters’ reach grew, each of them acquired a rare magic item that she cherishes. Griselda has a staff of withering. Hilda has a stone of commanding earth elementals. Matilda has a figurine of wondrous power in the shape of a cicada carved out of chrysoprase (works as an ebony fly). The magic in these items gives them intrinsic value (2) to the hags, while the combination of their power and their uniqueness— each item belongs to a Sister alone, and no one else—gives them even greater intangible value (4). Furthermore, these are items that could command high prices if sold (monetary value: 2), but they’re also useful, and in fact the hags do use them (operational value: 2). Total value: 10. Staff of the woodlands. This rare item is the Sumphew Sisters’ greatest find—so great that all three immediately coveted it and had to strike a bargain quickly to avoid coming to blows over it (intrinsic value: 4, intangible value: 4). One Sister at a time attunes to the staff and uses it exclusively for one cycle of the moon, while the other two watch her like a hawk; when the moon is new, she breaks her attunement and passes it to the next Sister. (At the moment, Hilda Sumphew is the lucky Sister; Griselda is on deck.) The staff is tremendously useful to the natureoriented hag coven (operational value: 4). They’d never dream of selling it, but if someone else did, it could fetch a respectable price (monetary value: 2). Total value: 14. Lore. The Sisters have a small library of rare books, full of juicy, taboo knowledge of unwholesome magic, which they find downright delectable (intrinsic value: 4, intangible value: 4). They make use of this lore as they work to spread their corruption through Blackalder Swamp and beyond (operational value: 4). Ironically, while extremely rare, these books aren’t worth much money, because no reputable dealer would stock them, and no respectable customer would buy them (monetary value: 1). Total value: 13.
The Sumphew Sisters. Each hag values her own life as highly as possible (intrinsic value: 4), and her nigh-immortality makes that life doubly worthy of protection (intangible value: 4). Total value: 8. The other Sumphew Sisters. Hags gonna hag. None of the Sumphew Sisters values the lives of the other two hags in the coven nearly as much as she values her own. To be blunt, none of the Sisters considers the other two hags’ lives to be intrinsically valuable at all. Their covenant, however, makes each hag useful to the other two, since their power is greater within the coven than without it (operational value: 2). That’s as far as it goes. Total value: 2. Not many people would dare try to rob a single hag, let alone a hag coven, although there are knuckleheads out there offering living proof of the DunningKruger effect. These hapless buffoons are easily dealt with, though. Of greater concern are powerful practitioners of magic. Protecting the coven’s assets means protecting them against arcane larceny. There’s one other complication: The Sisters don’t trust one another. Not only must they take measures to secure their assets from outsiders, each of them must secure her personal trophy item from the other two! Moreover, if the coven should be broken, each of them will try to seize their shared property—the staff of the woodlands and the books of lore—and either make off with it or kill the others. As ambitious and greedy as they all are, they also recognize that this is a scenario fraught with risk for all of them. Therefore, out of enlightened selfinterest, they’ll strive to ensure that the coven isn’t broken. The Sumphew Sisters’ many mundane items, oddities, and caged creatures are somewhat vulnerable simply because there are so many of them, “putting them away” would involve too much work and too many containers, and the Sisters don’t care about them enough to bother. Having them inside the cottage is security enough for them. The same goes for the potions and other items the hags craft. They do at least bother to stow their respective shares of money, gems, jewelry, and art objects in locked chests in their bedrooms, with a few other small measures taken to discourage pilfering by the other Sisters. Their spell components, which they share, are safe enough within the cottage. That
leaves their books, their personal trophies, and the staff of the woodlands. The books are kept in a room deep within the cottage and never taken out; the Sisters take the staff out only when they’re using it and always return it immediately afterward to a shared area where they can all keep an eye on it. As for their personal trophies, well, that’s a conundrum. They’re too valuable to keep merely under lock and key when any of the Sisters can turn invisible at will. That gives them a strong incentive to keep these objects in their possession at all times; there’s no safer place for them. That’s fine for Matilda, whose figurine of wondrous power is lightweight and fits in a pouch. Hilda’s stone of controlling earth elementals weighs 5 pounds, which is a lot to carry around all the time, but green hags are exceptionally strong, so the burden is one she can bear. Carrying her staff of withering around all the time, however, would be an inconvenience for Griselda, especially when it was her turn to use the staff of the woodlands. She has to get creative. Corrupting a whole swamp takes work, and the Sumphew Sisters must leave their lair from time to time to go about their business. That means having a plan in place to protect the cottage when they’re away, not just when they’re around. By extension, it means that the main battle area must be outside the cottage and that the Sisters themselves can’t constitute the bulk of the defensive force. They’re going to have to marshal some serious resources to defend their lair adequately. Losing any of their loot would make them angry, and they’d want to exact revenge, but they could live without it—most of it. Losing their books or their rare magic items, however, would send them into a tailspin of fury and despondency. In particular, losing the staff of the woodlands would be such a blow that the coven probably wouldn’t hold together. They can’t let that happen. All the resources not directed to defending the cottage as a whole are directed toward protecting these particular assets. DEFENSE Griselda, Hilda, and Matilda Sumphew, a coven of three green hags, live in a crooked-looking wooden cottage on a patch of high ground in Blackalder Swamp. A path raised above the waterline, about 5 feet wide, connects the
cottage to dry land outside the swamp; most of the rest of the ground is wet and squishy, with water as deep as 4 feet in many places. It’s passable terrain, but unpleasant and difficult, with lots of undergrowth, so travelers have a strong incentive to stay on the path. A tall fence of sharp stakes, passable only where the path crosses it, provides yet another incentive. The hags take advantage of this fact to monitor the approach to their cottage with a hag eye. This device has a couple of drawbacks, however. First, peering through it is an intentional act; although the Sisters check it often, they can’t monitor it constantly. That means that if they were to aim it down the path, away from the cottage, someone could easily walk right past it before they knew anyone was approaching. Second, it’s a vulnerability: If anyone were to attack the hag eye, all the Sumphew Sisters would be blinded for 24 hours, and they’d take heavy psychic damage as well. Their solution is to conceal the eye in a wasp nest (A) that faces toward, rather than away from, their cottage, so that anyone approaching is highly unlikely to notice it. The wasp nest is 60 feet away from the cottage and 20 feet above the ground. There are also several inhabited wasp nests (B) around the Sisters’ cottage. Anyone who comes within 5 feet of one of them gets attacked by aswarm of wasps. The Sisters’ presence has drawn some unseelie fey to Blackalder Swamp, mostly redcaps and meenlocks (see Volo’s). The redcaps are diurnal, the meenlocks nocturnal. They roam the swamp, attacking any trespassers they encounter. If the hags are within 600 feet, they may hear the commotion, but these fey creatures don’t feel any obligation to report what they’ve seen, so they’re not a reliable method of detection. More dependable are Davanally and Groark, an awakened giant spider and awakened giant toad, both with Intelligence 10 and obedient to the Sisters. If they happen across intruders, they watch for as long as they can (Davanally has expertise in Stealth and Hides; Groark just sits in the water, mostly submerged, and stares), then hurry back to the cottage to tell the Sisters what they’ve seen (Davanally may aim a Web attack at a vulnerable-looking target before she scuttles off through the trees). The linchpin of the Sisters’ defense, however, is that the open area in front of their cottage—about 70 feet wide and 90 feet long—is watched over by fourteen awakened trees in the surrounding swamp. If anyone attempts to get close to
the cottage in the hags’ absence, two of these trees move to block the door, one blocks the exit through the fence, and the rest assault the interlopers. (To add insult to injury, up to five opportunistic mud mephits may also decide to join the fracas—all on the side of the trees, of course.) If the Sisters are present, they handle the fight in the main battle area themselves, using the Nature list of alternative coven spells (see Volo’s, chapter 1, “Hags: Dark Sisterhood”). Griselda leads by casting spike growth, causing a 40- foot-wide circle of sharp thorns to sprout from the ground in front of the hags’ dwelling. Next, Hilda casts plant growth centered on the same point (excluding the ground on which the Sumphew Sisters are standing) and causes all the undergrowth in the area to grow wild, making the ground extra-difficult terrain. Matilda follows up by casting entangle on the several most closely clustered trespassers. The following round, while Griselda and Matilda taunt their foes with vicious mockery (2d4 psychic damage on a failed saving throw), Hilda casts call lightning, jolting the pinned-down enemies. The effect of plant growth persists without concentration; if any Sister’s concentration on another spell is broken, she simply recasts it, up to twice more (except for call lightning, which Hilda replaces with insect plague after the second casting). Three of the awakened trees stand by to grab any opponent who tries to run and fling them back into the briar patch. The death of any of the Sisters will break the coven, so as soon as any of them appears to be in mortal danger, or if they can tell in some other way that they’re outmatched, they retreat: Any remaining awakened trees delay their attackers as the hags withdraw into the cottage and slam the door. Griselda casts wall of thorns in front of the door to block it off; then the Sisters retreat through the mazelike house, full of odd angles and uneven doors. The Sisters have two helmed horrors as servants, at the locations marked C and D, and order them to delay any intruder who passes through. In the room marked E, Hilda uses her stone of controlling earth elementals to summon an earth elemental, which she commands to attack any intruder who enters (the cottage has a dirt floor, which the elemental can burrow through). Then the hags head for the room marked F, where they keep their unwholesome lore, and Matilda speaks the command word to fold up Pernilla’s private library (see appendix A), which the books are
stored on, and which she then picks up. Finally, the coven retires to the courtyard. OceanofPDF.com
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If none of the hags is seriously wounded yet and the odds seem close or in their favor, they’ll make a last stand here. Each Sister positions herself in front of the door to her own room, turns invisible, and Hides, attacking when any enemy comes within reach. (Griselda grabs her staff of withering from her room and wields it two-handed rather than defend herself with her Claws.) On the other hand, if the odds are clearly against them, Matilda will throw down her figurine of wondrous power, turning it into a giant cicada (use the giant fly stat block). The three Sisters will leap on its back, Matilda will order it to Dash, and they’ll fly away on it, planning to return within 24 hours, under cover of night, for the staff of the woodlands—which is standing in the middle of the courtyard, in plain sight, disguised as an enormous alder tree. (A cockatrice roosts in it, aggressively attacking anyone who tries to fly over the cottage and land in the courtyard.) If Hilda is seriously wounded while defending the courtyard, she’ll turn invisible and try to escape with the staff of the woodlands. With her next available action, she’ll return the staff to its normal form, then try to run back out of the cottage with it, still invisible. If she succeeds, she’ll use the staff to cast wall of thorns across the front door again (becoming visible when she does), then retire into the swamp. The other Sisters, furious, will abandon their defense of the cottage and pursue her. The cockatrice will drop out of the no-longer-present tree and go berserk on anyone who remains behind. Griselda and Matilda aren’t attuned to the staff, so they can’t make it revert from tree form to staff form as long as Hilda is around. If either of these Sisters is seriously wounded while defending the courtyard, she has to make a snap assessment of the coven’s chances. If it seems like they can still win, the wounded Sister will keep fighting. If it seems like they’re going to lose but Hilda may die first, the wounded Sister will keep fighting—hoping to be the one to seize control of the staff when she’s killed! However, if it seems like they’re going to lose and the wounded Sister is going to die for nothing, she’ll abandon the coven to save her own skin. Matilda will flee on her chrysoprase cicada; Griselda may not be able to take the staff of the woodlands, but if Matilda is badly hurt, too, Griselda will turn invisible and try to snatch the private library from her on the way out.
Once any Sister breaks the coven, the other two Sisters will have nothing left to bind them, and they’ll surrender to their attackers—each one waiting and watching intently for an opportunity to betray the other and make off with the treasures of the faithless Sister and the coven, and swearing revenge on the Sister who ditched them. Each of the Sisters protects her own private room with a weird magic item: Griselda has a set of knitting needles enchanted with the equivalent of a cordon of arrows spell (save DC 12); Hilda has a small wooden carving of a tubby goblin sitting cross-legged that screams loudly enough to hear up to 60 feet away, including through walls, whenever anyone other than her enters her room; and Matilda has placed a loop of weeping willow branch that functions like a snare spell (save DC 12), triggered by anyone other than her, in front of her personal treasure stash. In addition, Griselda keeps her staff of withering inside a large, tacky lidded beer stein, which functions as the long compartment of an efficient quiver and blends in with the rest of her wall-to-wall clutter. RANDOM ENCOUNTERSIN BLACKALDER SWAMP Roll three times as the party travels through the swamp. Reroll duplicate encounters. d12 Encounter 1–3 No encounter 4–6 1d4 + 2 redcaps (day, not hidden) or 1d6 + 4 meenlocks (night, DC 17 to detect), which attack the PCs. They Dash away when seriously wounded. 7–8 Davanally (awakened giant spider with Intelligence 10), who hides in a tree (DC 18 to detect), observes the party until noticed, then Dashes back to the Sumphew Sisters’ cottage. 9–10 Groark (awakened giant toad with Intelligence 10), who sits submerged in the swamp (three-quarters cover from water), observes the party until noticed, then Dashes back to the Sumphew Sisters’ cottage. 11 1 swarm of insects per PC. Each PC is attacked by a separate swarm. The swarms fight to the death. 12 3 mud mephits per 2 PCs (hidden, undetectable because of False Appearance), which use their Mud Breath against the PCs. If all PCs are restrained, they attack; otherwise, they swim away. OceanofPDF.com
GREEN DRAGON LAIR Minimum recommended party: four level 13 or five level 11 PCs Deep among the oaks, birches, and spruces of the hilly Felsiger Wald, by the rushing River Tok, the green dragon Zatrulas has made his home beneath a natural sandstone arch—much to the woe of the wood elves who once dwelled in the forest and the human villages that surround it. For nearly a century, the dragon’s influence has suffused the forest with malice and malaise, and his predations have plunged his neighbors into a state of misery. ASSETS Loooooot. Do we even need to specify the contents? The point is that there’s a lot of it—about a quarter-ton altogether. Some of it would be very useful to someone, somewhere (operational value: 3). Some of it is of historic interest (intangible value: 2). All of it is worth a lot of money (monetary value: 4). And all of it is stuff—glorious, glorious stuff—which is reason enough for a dragon to want to possess it (intrinsic value: 4). Total value: 13. Oh, yeah, and Zatrulas. The dragon would like to keep living, of course (intrinsic value: 4). But that’s just one kind of value. You can’t compare that to the multifarious splendors of loot. Total value: 4. Zatrulas must defend his loot against thieves; he must defend his life against not only thieves but do-gooders, glory seekers, and hunters with more ambition than sense. He also can’t defend his loot—or enjoy it—if he loses his life. But he’s a dragon, so he can’t bring himself to forfeit his loot to buy his life. Instead, he takes care to hide his hoard, to ensure that it remains unspoiled if he should be temporarily driven off. There’s also the fact that dragons have to eat. Even in full health, he must range far and wide to feed himself, during which time he must leave his hoard
unattended. All the more reason why his treasure must remain well hidden. Fortunately, at least, he never needs to move it. He doesn’t use it. He doesn’t spend it. And while he calls attention to himself every time he picks off a couple of prize cattle, his dangerous reputation usually suffices to keep anyone from making a big deal about it. Every once in a while, though, someone decides that enough is enough, and he likes to be aware of those moments, because they usually mean he needs to expect a fight. (It rarely means he’s at any risk of losing that fight.) Could he afford to lose some of his loot? Sure, he could—but the loss would sting him deeply. It’s not enough for him to keep most of it. He doesn’t want to part with a single coin. He’ll put all the resources at his disposal toward preventing anyone from touching it. There’s one little problem with that, though: He’s a dragon, and not the kind of dragon that can pretend to be a person. This fact keeps him from participating in the local economy in any capacity except that of destroyer. The only means he can use to defend his lair are those he possesses himself: his strength, his wits, his presence, and the ancient draconic magic that shapes his lair and the landscape around it. That being said, his presence alone is enough to attract a number of minions to his service. Most of these are monstrous humanoids, but a few of them are weak-willed humans and wood elves who spy for him in their nearby settlements. Their obedience to Zatrulas—whether it comes from fear, awe, or both—provides this cleverest of dragons with ample warning of any impending assault. DEFENSE The reach of Zatrulas, an adult green dragon, is broad. His presence in the forest makes it a murky, forbidding place, but even beyond the physical changes, it casts a shadow of fear for miles and miles around. Even the residents of the villages around Felsiger Wald who aren’t agents of the dragon are a suspicious, disconsolate lot, untrusting of one another and even more untrusting of strangers. They keep their mouths, their doors, and their hearts tightly shut. Partly this is because Zatrulas does have spies among them (use the snoop stat
block, appendix B), and they snitch not only on strangers but also on their own neighbors if anyone dares speak a word against the dragon. They rendezvous with Zatrulas or his minions at predetermined locations in the forest, which he passes by on his daily rounds. With the wood elves gone, goblins and ettercaps have the run of the forest. Zatrulas finds the goblins to be especially useful minions, since they’re both terrified of him and superb at stealthy reconnaissance. Each band of roughly twenty goblins—with half the band patrolling by day, the other half by night—is responsible for patrolling a section of the forest covering about a square mile and reporting on anything amiss. When they spot trespassers, they hide and observe, two goblins approaching for a closer look while the rest of the patrol hangs back. At night, if the trespassers seem not to be keeping adequate watch, they’ll sneak up and steal weapons, supplies, and anything else that seems interesting. The terms of their deal with Zatrulas require them to give him any money, gems, jewelry, magic items, or objets d’art they find; anything else they can take, they get to keep. At the end of their patrols, they share their information with neighboring goblin bands. The goblins aren’t the dragon’s only scouts: Within 1 mile of Zatrulas’s arch, the squirrels, voles, and crows of Felsiger Wald spy for him during the day, the mice, bats, and owls at night. He has a mental connection with them and can choose to see and hear through their eyes and ears. The ettercaps don’t serve Zatrulas directly, but he finds it useful to let them prowl and attack trespassers as they will, and the webs that they and their herds of giant spiders weave occasionally catch something interesting. Since the dragon arrived, a perpetual, pungent mist has settled over Felsiger Wald, lightly obscuring the entire area; the forest floor is difficult terrain throughout. In addition, the underbrush around Zatrulas’s arch has grown into an enormous, woody, thorny labyrinth, extending a mile in every direction from his arch. After a hunt, Zatrulas likes to scatter the picked bones of his prey across the labyrinth, in order to unnerve those who wander into it. Also, when Zatrulas spies on intruders through the eyes of the beasts and birds of the wood, he makes the creatures stare directly, conspicuously, unsettlingly, at the objects of their attention, for extra skin-crawling effect.
From time to time, the dragon lets out a roar, just to remind anyone listening that he’s there—but never when he’s near his lair. He doesn’t want to lead anyone in that direction. Locals refer to the Tok as a river, but it’s more properly a shallow, rushing stream, no more than a foot or two deep. It’s easy to traverse—easier, in fact, than most of the forest. For this reason, and because it’s also a natural landmark in the misty wood, and because the forest has reclaimed all the beaten trails that used to lead through it, the goblins have built abatis across the Tok in various places and like to ambush trespassers who find their progress blocked by them. They’ve also placed hunting traps and snares in the stream, to catch those who aren’t paying attention to where they put their feet—or who can’t see clearly because of the fog. The Tok flows through the labyrinth around Zatrulas’s arch, but it doesn’t offer any way through the thickets; they’ve simply grown over and across it. Most of the labyrinth is dense and tortuous, but in a number of places it contains open clearings, 30 to 60 feet in diameter. These clearings are battle areas: When Zatrulas is aware that trespassers are in the labyrinth, he keeps tabs on their progress through the eyes of his minion critters, then confronts the trespassers when they expose themselves. It’s a damned-if-you-do, damned-ifyou-don’t situation, which trespassers will quickly realize, but which they can do little or nothing about: There’s no way to get to Zatrulas’s lair except to traverse the labyrinth or fly over it. And there’s even less cover in the air. By the time they get that far, Zatrulas already has some sense of how dangerous the intruders are and what their goals are. Based on this intelligence, he may simply attack them, or he may choose instead to land and parley. Zatrulas likes to talk, and he loves to defeat his enemies by talking them into giving up—or, even better, into turning to his side. If the intruders show even the slightest irresolution, faintheartedness, dissension, or pliability, he zeroes in on it, employing a mix of matter-of-fact persuasion and slippery deception. He’ll make all sorts of promises, but one device he won’t resort to is monetary bribery. His hoard is his, and he won’t part with it. OceanofPDF.com