Blood, Plunder and D&D

  Market Street in Haven Towne was one vast warren of buying and selling. The wide, crowded boulevard was not only lined with bustling shops selling everything imaginable, but each tributary street seemed to be more of the same. The street stretched away in front of them as far as they could see.  And every available nook and cranny that wasn't a building seemed to house a stall or cart. The press of people and carts was immense, making forward progress would have been difficult if The Sturg hadn't been leading the way. "Did you see that?" giggled their Native Guide, temporarily forgetting to pick his nose. "The Sturg picking up that donkey that was blocking the street and just moving it aside. And he didn't even hurt it". "The Sturg likes animals" said Dakhir. "Never seen him intentionally hurt one. People on the other hand..." The Native Guide (who also was the ten year old son of the innkeeper of Black Alice's Brew ) looked at...

  Ricmo sat at alone at a table on the second floor balcony of Black Alice's Brew  sipping his drink and absentmindedly watching the traffic pass below him. The wind was warm and balmy off the bay, and the setting sun lit the streets with a soft golden light. He had to admit, this wasn't bad. The halfling wasn't really paying much attention to the bustling harbor town below him though, he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was evidentially captain of the Lady Jezebel now. Leadership was not a state that Ricmo normally aspired to. In his opinion, responsibility had a tendency to kill the fun in life and often just flat out kill you. When he had been growing up in the streets and gutters of Valoria, he had been a member of many a gang, but never aspired to be a leader of any of them. Let the other toughs jockey and kill for the alpha spot, he was happy to let them have it. Of course he had never been much of a follower either, he'd generally just g...

  My intention was to run a pirate ghost story but not your standard Flying Dutchmen ghost story. How I got there was a bit convoluted , while doing the world building research for the D&D Pirate campaign, I read a lot of books on the 17th century Caribbean and one of the stories that particularly caught my attention was the 1692 earthquake that destroyed Port Royal, one of the principle ports of the region. The first hand accounts were chilling and epic, and all I kept thinking was "can you imagine the ghosts all that must have created? And thus the seed was planted. It also seemed like a great way to start to introduce some of the Shadowlands concepts that I was homebrewing, in addition to some of the backstory for the long dead Empire of Annwyn, both subjects that were going to play a major role in the campaign.  And so the former Imperial port of Lost Anchorage was born. Cold, desolate, remote and abandoned, well off the major shipping lanes, a haven of last resort for...