🎉 Campaign End Stream, Community Discord & More!
3 months ago
– Thu, Aug 22, 2024 at 08:50:57 AM
Hail and well met Wanderers,
Our battle for Faerie reaches its zenith, and so I arrive for a final time to herald campaign news! To all those who have raised thy house banner alongside us, we salute thee.
Campaign End Stream
Tonight at 1am GMT // 5pm PST thou may joineth Conor live on YouTube as he designs more monsters, answers questions about the book, and announces the final fate of Willow the Witch (more on that below…)
Community Discord
The vault finally opens its doors to those that may wish to wander its depths! Be thee warned, much of the vault is under construction, so thy suggestions will be welcome in which vaults open or close! Thine invite is held below this update ↓
The Beasts of Blightmoor £150K
Our largest stretch goal of the campaign so far has finally fallen! The behemoth was mighty, but was still no match for our numbers. Expect more information on the tale to be told soon, but for now know that this adventure provides the perfect entry into the world of Faerie! Unveiling the lore of Avalon, and pitting thy party against the growing dangers in the wild places…
Willow’s Final Battle!
Thy chosen champion Willow is facing down the dreaded Hag Nanny Rutt RIGHT NOW, thou may head to the battle there and help thy fellow wanderers defeat the challenges needed to ensure her victory once and for all!
And so ends our final report, I shall endeavour to return post-campaign should I not fall valiantly in the final eve of battle! I wish thee good fortune in the battle ahead, may Avalon bless us all.
Sir Gyngalyn
Knight of The Dragons Vault
🔴 ENDED | Choose thy Adventure - 10. WILLOW VS THE HAG
3 months ago
– Wed, Aug 21, 2024 at 02:46:53 PM
🔴 This post was being updated live as we progressed through the battle between Willow and the Hag.
CHALLENGE 1 COMPLETECHALLENGE 2 COMPLETECHALLENGE 3 COMPLETECHALLENGE 4 COMPLETEFINAL CHALLENGE COMPLETE
—————————————————————————————————
Hail & well met Wanderers,
Here we now stand, at the end of all things. Our journey has been long, the path ever winding, but thy choices have lead us here to our final moments. Guided by your most favoured choice, as proffered by wanderer Tori, Willow shall take her time to wisely seek out the assistance of an ally…“Channelling your magic through the embers before you, the smoke twists into a form most becoming of a witches familiar; A large cat, with long pointed ears and eyes that look as if beyond lied pools of the deepest emerald green. A Grimalkin pads forward into the space, uninterested in the strange flora that abounds here, and instead moves to curl around your waist. It shall need a name, perhaps the fates will have a suggestion? Regardless you do not delay, and scoop the cat quickly to hold before you. You instruct the Grimalkin to step between the veil, and seek out the Knight of Autumn whose favour you carry. The Grimalkin nods, and as quickly as it appeared, is once more gone. But only moments later, a chill runs down your spine, and a sickly laugh cackles through the halls of the hollow keep.
You turn, looking for its source, and see a hunched figure emerge, held aloft by tentacle like roots, from a crumbled tower. It lingers for a moment, just as the morning sun begins to bathe the putrid stonework in a warm glow. But you have prepared, and took time to call for aid. You need not to defeat her, but merely survive her until reinforcement can arrive to help you deal the final blow. A sickening voice then spills forth from the creature, dripping in so much malice that even hearing its sound makes you momentarily unsure if you’ll ever feel hopeful again:
“𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖞 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖘𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖘𝖔 𝖊𝖝𝖈𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖉𝖑𝖞 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑. 𝖂𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖓, 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝕴 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖞 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑. 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖊𝖝𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖋𝖊𝖎-“
You steel yourself, and the feather of the Morrígna thrums warmly in your hat and your heart. You are not frightened. You are not lost. You are Willow, witch of the elder ways, and you will shall not falter where others have fallen.
Before the hag can prattle any longer you take your chance, rushing forward you begin to weave spellcraft between your fingers. You will strike fast with your most powerful spell yet, before she finishes her self-indulgent monologue!”
As the battle rages on, this post will change and update live with the action. New polls will emerge, and new challenges thou must complete in order to empower Willow to victory! Thou must succeed in 5 challenges in order to defeat Nanny Rutt for good, but be swift, each challenge will only remain for mere hours…
“You search for the sigils, the runes of old, and then like a sudden breeze on a chill morn you feel their arrival upon the crest of your minds eye. The fates have delivered unto you the necessary symbols, which you weave with your hands before loosing cursed shackles upon the descending hag.
The horrifying creature is taken by surprise, her lingering platitudes cut short as chains of hex weave amidst her rotten limbs. The crone screeches, appalled, as you dash to hug the crumbled wall of the outer courtyard. The spell bought you enough time to reach cover, though you hear the nightmarish beast dismantling your magic link by link, her choking outrage begins to twist into putrid laughter more with each broken chain.
“𝕴𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘, 𝖘𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖞𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗? 𝕱𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖞, 𝖕𝖔𝖔𝖗 𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘, 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒! 𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖜 𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍, 𝕴 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖘 𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊𝖘, 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖔𝖗 𝕴. 𝕴 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖆 𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖑𝖊, 𝖚𝖓𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖞 𝖇𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖆𝖗𝖓 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖔𝖑, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖉𝖔 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙”
Then all grows silent, you peek around the wall only to meet with the endless eyes of foul Nanny Rutt mere feet away. The smell of bog and death floods your senses as she opens her rotten mouth and speaks softly words that shake the earth, derisively simple yet steeped in power:
Eager to feel, easy to break
Mine sitteth cold, like frozen lake
The foolish yearn to give theirs away,
Yet forever trapped within I stay
So tell me, witch, if thou art wise:
What breaks within while another’s dies?
You still for a moment as time slows, the hags words echo in your mind and darkness encroaches at the edges of your vision. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest, yet with each beat you feel strength fill you. The Hag’s folly was forgetting that those who’s hearts beat strong are not so easily taken, and so you respond in kind:
Tis an error dear nanny, that thy cannot feel,
For then you’d know what breaks mayest heal
And though it breaks when they depart
Forever they may live, within 𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
The hags words are scattered like shells on broken wave, her magic unwound and power diminished. You take the chance afforded by her stupor to entangle her in thorn and bramble, but they will not hold for long. Your mind wanders to your Grimalkin, Treacle, and how much longer until she is able to rally thy Autumn ally…
The eye of the fates is wrenched from this harrowing battle back through elder forest, until it happens upon a witches feline familiar meandering across root and leaf with the paradoxical casual-urgency that only a cat may muster.
Finally the fates are able to usher the Grimlakin to its destination, and you feel a resonance radiate from beyond the veil and back unto you. Treacle appears once more at your feet, purring intently as you wipe blood from your mouth and pull yourself from a heap. The hag is growing more desperate, and in that desperation, more violent. You won’t last much longer without aid, but only a moment after Treacle appears, you feel something else. The wind picks up, a cool autumn breeze blows through the stale air of this forgotten keep. Not idly do the winds of autumn reach such places.
The hag rises from the writhing mass of thorns ahead of you, and points a curled finger of gnarled bone and bark toward your heart. Her voice crawls into your ear, like insects burrowing into a fallen tree.
“𝖂𝖍𝖔 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖉𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖘 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖊? 𝖂𝖍𝖔 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖈𝖊? 𝕬𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖕𝖔𝖔𝖗 𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊 𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝖚𝖓𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖞 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖔𝖉𝖞”
Looking to her, the comforting wind at your back, you speak the words
“House Autumn Always Remembers”
In a crack of thunder and rush of leaves a form charges through a crumbling wall of the keep, clad in armour and bellowing a mighty song the Knight of Autumn bears down upon this elder crone with furious wrath and righteous condemnation. The hag flings spell and lashes with claws as the unrelenting brute tackles her through the lower foundations of a tower which wobbles like a drunkard before shadowing the ground beneath you, heralding its imminent collapse. You charge forward between tumbling rock and broken root, joining your companion in the fight as you make swift his weapon and make nimble his footwork.
Surely you have her now, but then again, no beast is more dangerous than a cornered one. You are barely able to move out of the way of the armoured mass catapulted out of the crumbled tower straight toward you. The Knight of Autumn is sent tumbling into the broken earth, wounded but not out. Emerging from the dust the hags face pears toward you and you alone, a look of mad desperation in her eyes and drool dripping from her crooked scowl. With her dwindling power the Hag then leaps forwards with primal ferocity, a clawed finger extending toward your chest as vile magic spills forth and envelops you. This is the last act of a doomed creature, but she may yet still take you with her into death. The Knight of Autumn rises quickly to stand with you, he will gladly share in your victory or venture into death at your side…
The air thickens as dark magic pours from the hag and overwhelms you, you plant your feet but feel yourself beginning to falter as waves of pure malice break against you like an unrelenting tide. Is this how you end? To come so far, only to be swallowed up in the dying act of a a creature so foul?
Then, you hear voices, voices that extend from beyond the veil. The fates speak to you, they will you onward, fill you with strength. You feel their support made manifest, elder magic courses from beyond through your beating heart. You remember your journey, where you began and where you went, each step guided by the fates themselves. In this final moment, having been by your side since this story began, they do not let you down.
The DC to resist this magic was a 25, and so the fates roll your die one final time.
NATURAL TWENTY!!!
In a startling twist of destiny not only are you able to shrug off the plumes of hatred as they attempt to enthral you, but you are able to instead direct them downward to diffuse into the earth itself. The hag looks confused, no not confusion, she looks scared. You waste no time, linger no more in her suffering, and with a final hand movement you sever her connection to the very weave of the elder itself. Like a marionette with strings cut she tumbles, a pile of baggy bones upon a crumbled throne.
You stand above her, as she meekly looks upward to the brightening sky, her eyes searching for reason or for escape. No more words leave her crooked lips, and then almost as quickly as it began, she fades into the beyond never to return.
The moment is cut sharp to a close as a large armoured foot plants itself firmly and unceremoniously where the hags head once lay, echoing in a sickly wet crunch. You look to your rather large ally, who replies to your discerning gaze with his characteristically brief wisdom:
“Better safe than sorry”
A smile settles warm upon your face, as blighted root begins to curl back into the earth. Treacle apparates upon your shoulder, purring intently with a job well done. You look to the morning sun as it dancing behind the canopy overhead, and with Knight and Grimalkin at your side, a single question emerges within you:
Where to next?
—————————————————————————————
And so ends our incredible tale, with a
natural 20 no less! If you’d like to hear the roll live you can listen
here (timecode 2:35:30). We leave Willow to her adventures, wherever they may be, but we may yet see her again…
Thank you all, fates and wanderers, for joining us and helping craft this most special of stories. As promised you were to be offered a choice of three rewards upon thy victory against the hag, yet thanks to your fellow backers and their cunning plot to trap me in a fey bargain, you have now secured
ALL 3 REWARDS as a result of the natural 20.
Here is what you can now expect to receive in the final book, alongside the discoveries made by Willow during her journey:
Choose thy Adventure - 08. The Alchemist’s Garden
3 months ago
– Tue, Aug 20, 2024 at 07:16:10 AM
Hail & well met Wanderers,
The witching hour draweth near, and the fate of Willow and the Hag shall soon be decided! Once more you must choose her actions, though this time it shall be decided by discourse rather than vote….
“You walk through cramped tunnel and down damp passageway, carefully avoiding the sickly oozing roots that curl around the stonework. Eventually you find yourself beneath the drizzling hatchway of a run-off, and scrambling upward emerge amidst a courtyard of sorts. Perhaps once much was grown here with purpose, food for the keep kitchen, wort for tincture and tonic, but now no purpose remains. Instead a twisted mass of barbed thorn, snapping maw, and poison leaf fills this space. But thou art a witch, and such flora cannot hamper you. You search the area, seeking for anything of use that may remain despite the spreading blight and rotten earth, until you happen upon a tiny patch of herbs that still yet stands. Yarrow, white of flower and potently saturated with abjurative magics. From this you could quickly fashion something to heal, or to ward.
But as you cut the last of the yarrow you feel your bundle grow suddenly lighter, and look to see your collection gone. A voice speaks softly in your mind
“Thy debt unto me is paid little witch, in receipt I wish thou fortune against the coming darkness.”
Crest fallen, but stalwart still, you allow yourself not a moment to mourn the lost time or effort. Instead you scan the area once more, no plants of inherent use remain, but perhaps there are enough for a minor feat of magic?
You gather a collection of cuttings and sap from the plants here, form a small bundle, and set it alight. As it smoulders, a lazy trail of smoke rises innocuously around you, weaving amidst the words of ritual you speak. The elder magic begins to coalesce into a form, a familiar. But what form should this familiar take?
Regardless of your choice a more pressing question stands, you have time yet still to prepare or to further scout the keep. Though with each passing moment, you risk the awakening of Nanny Rutt.”
Comment below this update what you believe Willow should do with the time she has to prepare, the most liked comment shall determine what she does prior to the arrival of the hag! Be warned, the longer Willow takes in her preparations or investigations, the more likely it is that she will be caught by Nanny Rutt…
Choose thy Adventure - 07. Nanny Rutt’s Keep
3 months ago
– Mon, Aug 19, 2024 at 06:39:34 AM
Hail & well met Wanderers,
As we approach fast the culmination of this tale, thou can now expect a
new chapter every day! That is until our end is reached, and Willow is victorious, or the weave of her tale is cut tragically short…
But for now the fates once more convene, and taking thy choice in hand have willed destiny upon Willow and her quest:“You choose to give the payment of old, and promise the great crow sister the offer of your next boon, whatever it shall be; In return gaining her assistance in reaching the final stage of your quest. The Morrígna agrees, and bows her head low for you to take seat upon her back. Spreading her onyx wings you feel the rush of wind sweep over you as she takes flight with but a single stroke. Your wonder, however, is fast replaced with panic as she stoops into a dive, the canopy rushing toward you both as inertia plays havoc with your stomach. Though it is short lived, she levels out with a chuckle and you hear her voice once more in your mind:
“I apologise little witch, so rarely does one like myself get chance to share the skies with anyone these days”
You soar through the clouds, taking in the beauty of this strange realm, for what seems like an age. Laying your head down, you are even able to drift into slumber for the remainder of the journey.
Hours pass, and blinking open your eyes you see the early light of dawn gathering on the horizon. But dread soon rears its head once more, as the forest beneath you begins to show signs of decay. A sickly orange glow emanates from beneath the leaves and within the root and stem, it seems the Morrigna’s words were no mere folly; Blight has taken grip of these lands. It is then that you see it, cresting upon the horizon ahead atop a barrow that emerges cautiously from the canopy into eyeline, an old crumbled keep.
Before you can get too close the Morrígna flies low to ground, setting you down near the destroyed shell of an old well. The secret passage way marked on the map you found is accessible from here, and then only a short trek stands between you and the keep.
“The crone will still be sleeping in these dawn hours, thou wilst have time to make thyself ready. Once thou hast chosen thy battlefield, speak aloud the name “Nanny Rutt”, and she won’t be able to resist appearing. She is powerful, but if the fight is on thine own terms thou mayest stand a chance.”
You thank the Morrígna, before watching her take flight once more, leaving you in these accursed woods. Her feather rests in your hat, and though alone you feel no fear grip your heart, only determination. Scaling down the well carefully, you step into a damp crumbled tunnel thick with moss, lit by the uneasy orange glow of blighted roots. Looking to the map, you see a few options for egress, and having arrived early you will even have time to investigate an area before electing where to face the hag. But which section of the keep draws your eye most?”
