On 29 August, 2000, I ran my regular gaming group through a setting which I cooked up on the spot, in order to introduce them - and me - to the 3rd Ed. D&D rules. To my surprise it was popular enough that we kept playing it, and after a few sessions it became the material I am presenting here. This is a handy setting for introducing new 1st or 2nd-level characters, but the region is one I will keep returning to for new adventures.

Introduction

A dwarf monk of Hamathurz' order, Banadoc of Delric, is given by church authorities a sealed scroll case and instructions to deliver it to the patriarch of Hamathurz in Kursig. She travels from the northern imperial city of Vice-Zarejen north to Kursig, meeting in a guest-house the human sorcerer Master Vendry Blackstaff, who together with his halfling manservant Myster Haris and protege dwarf sorcerer Olfric the Pale, is also going to Kursig. They elect to travel in company, and Banadoc, Myster and Olfric get along well. The journey takes 8 days on foot.

Day One

Within an hour's walk of Kursig, they are ambushed at a stream's ford by a single troll. The troll kills Blackstaff immediately and attempts to withdraw with the corpse. Olfric, Banadoc and Myster attack it, and Olfric and Banadoc are seriously injured. A half-elf bard, Galadrien of Lythande, who has been slowly overtaking the group for some days, comes on the scene and gives aid. The troll departs and those still mobile elect to let it go. The wounds of injured are inexpertly bound, and they are carried with difficulty to Kursig.

There, it is revealed that Myster is actually a local of the town, having left the previous spring. The first house the group comes to is the Amblewood home, that of Myster's family, occupied by his grandparents, parents, an uncle, two sisters and two brothers, including Willdin, who opens the door to them at dinnertime. Their tale is briefly told and the local farmers are horrified by the story of a large predator in the locality.

Willdin leads the group (surrounded by curious halflings) to the large, Corinthian-style temple of Hamathurz at the town's centre, where the demi-priestess of Hamathurz, Peetachi is summoned. Peetachi is sister to Willdin and Myster. Her magic restores the injured Olfric and Banadoc to consciousness. Banadoc delivers the scroll to Peetachi, who takes it to the high (and only other) priest of Hamathurz, Dwelfdon Marreg. The visitors are led by Myster to a dwarf-made abandoned building close by the Amblewood cottage, and Willdin provides a meal before all retire.

Marreg is discomforted by the message, which he does not reveal to Peetachi, though he instructs her on the instant to inventory the temple's assets and stores, as well as all outstanding business, for reporting on the morrow.

Day Two

The following day, Peetachi carries a message from Dwelfdon Marreg to the garrison. After a short period, all but Peetachi and Banadoc decide to seek out the beast of the previous day. Although they do not find it, they do find the sad remains of Vendry Blackstaff - almost entirely devoured. They also happen upon an imperial foot patrol, led by Lt. Vivia Cinqus, who is seems friendly to Galadrien. Finally, they meet Drux the half-orc barbarian, and his companion Isha the half-elf bard, who are en route to Kursig. Returning to the village, the group dines at the local tavern - an alehouse maintained by the Vintner family. There, the performances of Isha and Galadrien make for a merry evening. The absence of any legionnaires is noted. Meanwhile, Wildin and Olfric dine at the Amblewood household.

Day Three

The next morning the entire garrison departs, apparently for good, with Dwelfdon Marreg (personally carrying a small inlaid coffer) and Peetachi in train. The other PCs elect to follow. Myster is bailed up by his fearsome Grandam Vika, but in a fit of desperation defies her and departs, to the unexpected sound of her sobs.

The day's travel is hard on Peetachi, who has to walk. Drux carries Myster for a nominal fee, and the others ride on an army cart. That night, the legionnaires erect a palisade in which to sleep, and the bards and Peetachi are offered a share of the army's rations. The others must shift for themselves; Olfric cunningly steals a portion.

Day Four

At the end of the second day's march, after midnight, a small group of soldiers attempted to steal a few horses and desert. Some of the sentries were complicit, but the PCs slowed their exit, and all were killed or captured. However, a second group of soldiers had used the commotion to cover their own desertion over the palisade, and PCs were stunned to find that this second group had murdered Dwelfdon Marreg in his tent, and stolen the box - which Peetachi had learned held a holy relic of the church.

Day Five

The soldiers would not turn from their mission to seek the deserters, but paused an hour to punish the captives. The PCs were unwilling to see this, and set out at once to catch the deserters, spurred by the knowledge yielded by one captive that the deserters were bound for defenceless Kursig.

The night camped alone was made nervous by the presence of an unseen, watching person or thing. It withdrew when Drux went to investigate.

Day Six

The PCs arrived in Kursig by late afternoon on the second day after parting from the soldiers. They explored the temple of Hamathurz and the empty fort seeking answers to questions and weapons to fight the deserters. Myster found a keg of strong-smelling, oily stuff which burned well, and took it to anoint his quarrels with, and in flasks to throw. Peetachi found a secret room in the temple, hiding a tomb engraved with the words "Here lies an enemy of the Empire." Banadoc discovered that a stairway under the fort led to a chamber with a well, and a wall with a space behind it - the temple's secret room.

While no answers were found - only more questions - at sunset came news that strangers were at the Vintners' tavern - big, violent strangers.

Day Seven

Stealthily the adventurers approached the tavern. Inside the blearily glassed windows could be seen five armoured men, army deserters, including a gnome and a half-orc, who were drinking, laughing, and heartlessly abusing the Vintners and their customers.

Quickly a plan was made. Wildin, Myster and Banadoc crept through a rear entrance to the kitchen, while the others readied themselves without the front door. When all was ready, Pip thrust open the front door and strode in, small but fierce. When the deserters - amused at their diminutive antagonist - moved to strike her down, Drux stepped inside and past her, while the others launched missiles through the doorway or the servery, then charged.

In the battle that followed, two of the deserters were knocked senseless and taken prisoner. The gnome proved a tough nut, and escaped by leaping through a window, with Drux in hot pursuit. The remaining pair were slain where they stood, their blood splashing on the polished wooden floorboards. Nowhere could Pip find the missing holy relic.

Drux ran after the gnome across the fields, the race made even by a spell. After seeing to the prisoners, the hostages and the wounded, Drux's companions followed the traces of his passing into the woods. There they found his body, his throat cruelly cut, his tongue rudely protruding from from the gaping wound. The wily gnome was nowhere to be seen.

Day Eight

With their emotions controlled, in the light of morning the heroes brought the prisoners back to their senses. They questioned them, an uncouth half-orc and a hollow-eyed man with a shaven head. On the shaven-headed man's person they found an unholy symbol of Eythnul, god of slaughter. This was enough for Pip to condemn him - for with the departure of the garrison, and the death of Dwelfdon Marreg, the governorship of this province of one village had fallen upon Peetachi's slender shoulders.

In the late morning the villagers were called out to bear witness. After the fashion of the halfling barbarians, as Grandmother Vika had told her, Pip sentenced the silent priest to "the tree of death" - burning alive, trapped in a hollow log.

After bearing mute witness, the half-orc told them that he knew where the relic lay, and that in return for his life he would offer the secret. At length it was agreed, and the heroes departed - leaving the half-orc still prisoner, his life hanging upon the veracity of his tale. On the road they met Eryded, a paladin of Hamathurz who had been led hither by a dream of someone in need of aid, and he joined their company with nary a question.

Meanwhile, Isha the bard (who had stayed behind in the village) sought out the Imperial exile Imio Domus, an erudite old soak with a penchant for local history.

In a clearing not far from where Master Blackstaff had met his bloody end, the heroes cautiously stalked. Flies buzzed about a brutally hacked corpse, a day old at most, and a deserter by his gear. This mystery was not solved, but in the brook that bubbled inanely was seen the box Dwelfdon had carefully carried. With reverence, and discretion, Pip opened it; and closed it, satisfied, for the relic lay within.

It was then that horns of warning were heard from the village. The heroes returned at a run, but it was too late: as a village lad told them, huge, painted barbarians had come from the forest, beaten him, and stolen his flock of sheep.

There was nothing but that the heroes would follow them. A curious sigil on a tree by the trail was interpreted by the bards as a warning, and sure enough not much farther along the path snares had been laid, to discourage pursuit. But the snares failed in their purpose, and for some miles the heroes followed the trail, first west, then north.

The halflings' sharp senses warned them of the ambush, but not from whence it came. A javelin, the head bound with bright feathers, flew from the greenery. Bolts were exchanged, but no blows; and the heroes, realising their exposed position, withdrew.

With curious hospitality, the half-orc prisoner was fed and kept in the barn for the night, still bound. In the morning his gear and even his few coins were restored to him, and he departed, swearing never to return.

Day Nine

The raid the previous day had stung the heroes into considering the vulnerability of the village. Not in living memory had the village been attacked, but not in living memory had the entire garrison been absent. Once proud barbarians themselves, the villagers had become peaceful citizens of the Empire - a plum ripe for picking.

Before much in the way of preparations could be made, the attack that was feared came. Dozens of barbarians, their war paint and feathers identifying the Red Leaf tribe, came howling from the forest. Accompanied by fierce dire animals, they came for plunder, for winter provisions and livestock and beer, for pipeweed, and for women, but they did not blanch at killing; any man who dared to raise a weapon was feathered with javelins or cut down with axes, and any one who did not hide might be clubbed unconscious.

The heroes fought, and some villagers fought too, casting arrows and stones from windows and rooftops. When the skirmish line crossed the fields, the battle became a confused melee among the cottage and granaries of Kursig. Several of the heroes fell in a welter of blood to be restored with a touch by Pip and to fight again. Eryded was sprayed with musk from a dire skunk, a fate perhaps worse than mere dismemberment. At last the barbarians began fleeing, all carrying a woman or a barrel or sack, but few of them escaped. The run across the field became a gauntlet, and only half those who had come reached the safety of the trees.

Although the price had been high, the heroes knew that the Red Leaf barbarians would not see Kursig as a ripe plum any more.

It was the evening after the battle. Myster and his grandmother Vika set out to look at the bodies of the slain barbarians, staked out as a warning by the fierce Olfric. Vika commented that from the paint and garb they were of the Red Leaf tribe, which territory lies somewhere west of north from Kursig, perhaps 4-5 leagues afoot, in a region where the Red-Leafed Beech is commonly found.

As the sun set, a crowd gathered at the Vintners' tavern, where the mood was dark. Folk gathered for support after the unexpected attack, and shared the shock and loss over the death of four well-known hobbits and the kidnapping of Kyla Vintner. The Vintners were doubly bereaved, for their son was one of the slain. Isha and Galadrien worked together to gentle the crowd's pain. Eryded was forced to spend the night in a barn, for even after stripping and scrubbing with lye, the skunk stink was too strong to be borne.

Fatigue brought sleep early, though restless from ugly dreams. Outside thunder grumbled, and rain began to sheet down.

Day Ten

In the morning, after chores, Willdin attracted a few local hobbits with his thrown weapons practice, and sought to induce them to bring more the next day to participate. Myster and Olfric collaborated to distill a potent alchemical mixture which cleaned Eredyd and his armour (at the cost of his sense of smell for a day). Later, when the sun was high, Myster visited the staked bodies, to see if they had been disturbed.

They had not, but disturbingly, tracks could be seen. Numerous feet had come from the western woods and followed the edge of the fields south, past the staked bodies, leaving a muddied trail. Quickly the stout company was assembled (all but Isha), and the spoor was followed.

South west of Kursig, the trail turned into the forest. Ahead, perhaps two bowshots, tendrils of smoke were glimpsed. Olfric's raven, Morewell, scouted ahead, and reported a group of halflings.

The group advanced with care, until a warning javelin sped from the leaves to stick threateningly in the trail. The heroes then spoke to the hidden halflings, speaking of peace. A voice answered - in the barbaric tongue of the local halfling tribes, known to several of the heroes - "Do you come bearing weapons - or something else?" Pip replied that though they bore arms, they came in peace. An argument could be heard from the tribesmen, ending with the words "they said they bore weapons! Weapons!" With that, more javelins were hurled, this time with deadly accuracy.

The heroes had learned from their last skirmishes with tribesmen. They immediately sought cover, and several of them advanced through the brush. Pip and Myster persisted with their protestations of peace, but the violence had begun.

When it was over, one barbarian lay dead, another unconscious, stunned by blows from Banadoc and Eryded. Banadoc herself lay bleeding on the ground, death only averted by a healing touch from Pip. Olfric relayed a report from Morewell that the main group of halflings was moving away, evidently warned by a blast from the horn of one barbarian.

The appearance and gear of these barbarians made it clear that they were not of the Red Leaf tribe, which had attached Kursig the day before. Their spears were engraved, not feathered, and they themselves wore no feathers or paint, but wax-sealed neck pouches of rock salt as charms against evil spirits. The company left their dead opponent reverently composed, and returned to the village with their captive.

In the Vintner's tavern, over hot food and wine, the captive told the heroes many useful things. He and his people, he said, were of the Ash Ridge tribe, from "away north". They had, he said, deliberately skirted Kursig, believing (because the staked corpses stood at the edge of the fields) that beyond the fields was safe territory. When questioned about the reason for their journey, he became evasive, repeating only "There is evil abroad in the forest." At length he explained that orc scouts had entered their territory in the spring, and had now multiplied dangerously, and that more were expected. His people were heading south, but he fiercely denied they were abandoning their lands. They would, he said, never abandon their territory; such dishonour could not be borne. No matter how long it took, they would return.

The prisoner spoke more freely of other things. The warlike halfling tribesmen met at seasonal moots, such as the summer solstice recently past. The Festival of Exchange was the next moot, due at the ripeness of the moon, in three hands of days. However, he did not know where the moot was to be - for it changes, he said, every year. The company, having spoken evenly to him, returned his things and freed him, even loading him down with supplies. Bowing gravely to Pip, he departed.

At dinner that night, Pip, Willdin and Myster discussed the need to visit the clanmoot. Grandmother Vika told them that to do this, they must learn the barbarian symbol of peace - to carry only flowers in one's hands.

Day Eleven

While others practiced passes at arms, Pip, Isha and Galadrien made the journey to Red Leaf, carrying bunches of sunset cups and silverbells gathered on the way.

It was strange to be welcomed in peace to the rude village of the proud warriors who had only two days before been assaulting Kursig with blood-chilling cries. Red Leaf was a settlement of thatched cottages among the boles of great trees, many of them the Red-Leafed Beech for which the region is known.

After speaking to several of the villagers, the visitors were directed to the cottage of the Loremaster, a matronly halfling woman whose home sat among beds of purple fairberry and blue summerheart blossoms.

While she bustled about her kitchen, she spoke in the certain tones of a teacher to them. The moot, she said, was to be at Shroom Town, three days' journey to the west. There the priests, loremasters and chieftains would meet and speak of matters of importance - including the orc tribesmen now scouting the Ash Ridge territory to the north, and who seemed to have driven the Ash Ridgers from their home. She nodded sadly when told of the refugees the heroes had met near their village.

Pip, Isha and Galadrien returned home. The incursion of an orc band north of Kursig, moving south, and tough enough to drive the Ash Ridgers from their homes - for halflings are always strongest in defence - was ill news indeed. Kursig was defended well enough to discourage raids by other halflings, but an orc tribe?

Day Twelve

Efforts were made to muster a militia, and fences and ditches were constructed to link the open spaces between the outermost buildings of the village, forming a basic defence line. The fort was opened and inventoried, and the watchtower manned. At length, however, it was determined that the heroes should go for help to Vice-Zarejen, the Imperial city nearest Kursig. Surely the governor and church would not deny citizens in need of help.

Day Fifteen

Two and a half days' travel from Kursig, the single Imperial road through Ereggsig crosses a high wooden bridge over a deep river gorge - not wide as things go, but difficult for able-bodied men to climb, and impassable to horses. The bridge was already in sight when the senses of the heroes, whetted by days of omens, pricked up at stealthy movements in the trees before the bridge.

Without warning arrows flashed back and forth. Almost before it began, it was over; three orc barbarians lay dead, another fled into the woods, possibly to join more of his kind. Speedy reconnaissance revealed the bridge to be damaged, its' supports deeply cut with axes, likely to fall at the first heavy weight it bore; more than this, spoor of a dozen or more orcs was found. The heroes retreated; what help could be brought back quickly along this road, and would they live to bring it? Orcs were already south of Kursig; the village was undefended; they returned to it at their best speed.

Day Twenty

While preparing for the moot, and for a possible attack by orcs, Pip came again to the secret chamber under the temple of Hamathurz, with the enigmatic tombstone which read, "Here lies an enemy of the empire."

With the aid of her companions the stone was removed, to reveal an empty tomb - empty but for an engraved tablet, which read "Seek not for Hamathurz' enemies. Never again shall the small barbarians threaten the Thurzi. I have seen to it. What Alanthius has begun, I have finished. This is the trust of the Imperial Church."

Myster visited the historian Imio Domus, bribing him with peach wine, and learned much of the bloody days with which the Empire purchased Kursig, once a barbarian village not unlike Red Leaf, and home to the barbarian general Vercinax.

Vercinax, it seemed, had surrendered when terms were offered which allowed his troops to go free. But he had died the first night in Imperial bondage.

Day Twenty-Five

The moot at Shroom Town was a nine days' wonder to the simple heroes, whose experience of halfling barbarian culture was nil. Warriors and villagers of a dozen tribes mingled peacefully, exchanging stories, finely crafted weapons and jewelry, hides, beads, and herblore. Dances, songs, and tales were performed, and a few passes at arms were made inside circles of smooth stones.

The tribal chieftains met in one place, the priests in another, and the loremasters in yet another. Pip visited the chieftains' moot, and despite the mirth at her gender and age - for rarely are women chieftains of the Niamh halflings, unless they be a matriarch - she was admitted.

Galadrien came to the loremasters' moot, and found them more accepting. All wore robes of blue and purple, but their talk was mostly of ideas, and obscure lore.

After some hours, the heroes gathered to mull over a grim discovery: all the halflings were dismayed at the intrusion of a new orc tribe to the forest, probably from mountain regions to the north-east, but no tribe felt strong enough to oppose them individually - and no chieftain would accept another as his superior. Fierce individualists, it seemed the halflings could not unite. Not since the days of Vercinax, whom the Empire had defeated to subjugate the region and occupy Kursig 320 years before, had all the halfling tribesmen accepted a single general.

That night, the moot gathered close to observe the druidic rites of Obad-Hai, the forest lord. When the curtains were drawn back and the sacred place revealed to the crowd, the heroes gasped. There, at the foot of the altar, lay the burnished breastplate and helm, blade and ring of the first priest of Hamathurz in Kursig - the wargear of Voxzi, the warrior priest who had accompanied the Imperial general Alanthius when he had conquered Vercinax and the halfling tribesmen.

After the ceremony, the heroes sought for lore regarding how the wargear had been obtained.

A tale-teller related to them, in measured tones, how after the merciless imperial victory, and the murder of Vercinax (murder? they asked), Alanthius had departed to other wars, and Voxzi had remained as the first Imperial governor.

Often, he rode from the village alone, to visit a place where there had been a skirmish during the war. This place lay not far from the village of Shingle Ford, and sometimes the hunters from the village saw Voxzi there, always at a particular time of the moon, the anniversary of the final battle at Naked Hill.

Two winters after the battle at Naked Hill, warriors and priests from Shingle Ford and Shroom Town lay waiting at the place, where the black serpentime covers the still pond. When Voxzi appeared, he was taken alive in bondage to Shroom Town. There, to pay for the death of Vercinax, he was offered to Obad-Hai in the tree of death. His wargear was retained as a rare emblem of victory over the Empire. Since that time, however, there has been peace.

Day Twenty-Six

The following morning the heroes departed for Shingle Ford. There they enlisted a hunter, who knew the place where the black serpentine covers the still pool - a deep pool in a nearby brook, the same which crosses the Kursig road - and where there is a clearing, and a cave. This was not a good place, said the hunter; for lately the game was gone in this area, or fearful.

The reason soon became evident. From the cave came a growl, and moments later emerged from the cave the troll which had lately killed Master Blackstaff.

Battle was joined. Some of the heroes had climbed above the cave at the first sign of the enemy, others trees, still others had arrayed themselves in the clearing. The troll was punched, stabbed, shot, and doused with flaming naptha. Its' claws flashed - down fell Isha, down fell Eredyd. Its' fangs gnashed - down fell the brave hunter, and blood soaked the grass and drained in threads into the still pool. But the heroes circled the troll, feathered it with bolts, splashed it oil, until at last the smoking hulk fell to the turf.

The cave was noisome, but 'neath the earthen floor a layer of stones was found, and thereunder the tangled bones and wargear of ten halflings - Vercinax and his storied Nine Companions. Tokens were taken that, held by a living halfling chief, would rally the other tribes to his war banner.

And so we leave the brave heroes, flushed and bright with the hope of a plan to defeat the invading orcs. Perhaps Kursig, once the village of Naked Hill, can be saved. Perhaps...