By Corey Ryan Walden
Self Published
OSR
Levels 1-3
Blackened esoteric obelisks, henceforth known among most folk as ‘The Yore Standing Stones’, dot a strangely unnatural hill. The runes are inscribed with runic scripting, but it is what looms below the forlorn hill that should chill any good serf to the bone.
This twelve page adventure presents a few hexes as well as a small dungeon with eleven rooms. It reeks of that od&d charm from when things had not yet been homogenized. Light on treasure, heavy on frameworks over content, it does know the meaning of the words ‘specificity.’
I was poking through the depths of my bookmarks and found this hanging out where it shouldn’t be, next to Mary Ellis and Volante. Only in my head does a nine year old product not count as “old stuff.”
This is, I think, a hex crawl. With three hexes. I THINK you start out in a small town. The adventure just launches in with a description of hex one, and it has a small town in it. Well, ok, the hexes have A LOT of shit in them. If the art shows four terrain types then there will be at least four different things int he hex. Our town hex has a fetid swamp full of frogmen and degenerate humans, the town, the western wood, and the badlands full of hillfolk. Also, the fucking wilderness, man! The fucking wilderness is DEADLY. Like 1-3 nixies or 1d6+1 frogmen deadly. Anyway, I’m jumping around a lot. In town you learn of Rolff of Haris “… wanted for murder, rape and thievery, being a particularly bad sort. Rolf may be identified as being without one ear and possessing three absent fingers from his left hand. He was last seen heading west into the forest. There is a half crown reward (5gp) for his immediate capture.” I love this. That’s fucking specificity. A half crown. Three fingers and one ear … dudes had a life. And then we throw in the cute little “a particularly bad sort.” Later on, in the hex with the local castle in it, we find Rolf on the wandering table for the hex “Rolf of Haris will be hiding in the woods weeping. He has a dagger but fights like a serf.” Fucking a man! That’s great! Whatcha gonna do now about ol Rolfy?
The town is full of shepherds. “Knights from nearby Zhairmont are oft located a few miles up the road in a lodge where the occasional men-at-arms may be hired for an …” Of course they are. They aren’t hanging out at the serf village. They are out at the hunting lodge with their fellows! Later, in the castle hex, they ride out to meet you and challenge you to a joust … what matters is not if you win but if you accept and are a good sport. Then they might charge you with finding, in a nearby cave “A creature known as ‘Leatherman’ inhabits the cave. Leatherman fights as an ogre.” The Leatherman. Not an Ogre. A creature known as the Leatherman. This is 100% what I mean when I talk about named creatures. I loathe the abstraction and genericism of excitement and adventure. This sure as fuck ain’t doing that. It drips with that specificity and verisimilitude. “A shabby trails runs through town.” Of course it fucking does, it’s a village of sheepherds! And it’s full of mud and sheepshit.”
Elsewhere we get a ghoul in the forest wanderers, “seemingly dead.” Lots of adventures try this, especially with skeletons. But, finding a body in the woods? That’s something that you might expect. And THEN it comes to life. In the dungeon there’s a lake. “The Carrion Crawler often swims within the lake, and is incredibly creepy, startling all but the most perceptive” It’s almost, like, the environment was imagined first and then someone found a D&D book and found the best thing that fits. Which is what the fucking game SHOULD be like. “Any gold or silver placed within the lake turns in to platinum.” Fantasy.
Oh, also, there’s a cult in the dungeon. It’s a druid and two berserkers. They worship the crawler. Cause they crazy. Also, he knows sleep! There’s a fucking TPK in the making! Wow!
Okok, two more then I stop. “Interlopers in the wood may discover an unnatural hillock atop which dreadful black obelisks, inscribed with runic scripts, are perched. A grassy dike runs around the centre with an earthen ramp to bridge the still-deep gulf. A lone statue of a loathsome being can be found among the stones.” A dyke. Just like ALL obelisks have. But, also, one room in the dungeon has “a dozen living elephant trunks along the southern end of the room” Yup. Living elephant trunks. You can reach inside of them for goodies … if you dare!
This thing is rampant with imagination. It delights in it. Single column. More of a framework than an adventure. Deadly the way only a true “who gives a fuck” old school wilderness can be. I can’t recommend it. It’s just too .. loose. It needs just a bit more structure to it. But when this thing is hitting it is hitting hard. The definition of that terse, evocative shit I go on and on about. Situations. Imagination without books to get in the wya.
This is $5 on Lulu