Calen March, episode 1

The sun hovered low over the horizon, sinking behind the four eastbound travelers, painting the landscape the color of fire. It cast strange long shadows before them. Holnveth looked back at his three companions. Akal the Mantled, Rin the Collector, Shom of the West. The Ratcatchers, as they had been known, with him, Holnveth the Steady as their ‘fearless leader.’ Or so people said—he wasn’t so sure. They had journeyed for nearly a week from the great city of Fortitude, and were only just running into the first signs of trouble. He had heard something. A twig snapping?

Up ahead, the path narrowed between a high ridge to the south and dense forest across. Holnveth scanned the treeline, the ridge. Nothing. Silence. Rin shrugged. They’d all heard the stories of Calen March, of its untamed wilderness, of the monsters, of villagers going missing of late. Holnveth laughed. He’d worked himself up again. There was nothing to be afraid of, probably just some woodland fox or coney.

He glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye.

There. Five armed men drifted into the road a mere forty paces away, facing the four travelers in confrontation. Sunlight glinted off their scimitars, causing Holnveth to squint.

Holnveth was a statue of a man—tall, steady, handsome. He was twenty five years of age. His hair was long and golden, and he had a neatly trimmed golden beard. His eyes, usually full of mirth, now narrowed suspiciously at these threats in the road. He was tense, heart pounding. Without slowing his pace, he spoke to his companions in deep whisper.

“Highwaymen. Probably nothing to worry about; they just want our coin. Better that than our lives.”

One of his companions strode up alongside him, wearing a thick cloak the color of a city night. “Holn,” he said in a flat voice, “I do not like the look of them.”

Holn shot his companion a concerned glance. “Peace, Akal. I will do the talking.” Akal may have been a good sneak, but he tended to act rashly.

Yet Akal’s instinct was correct. As they drew nearer, Holn got a better look at the men in the road. He saw the signs: the way the men couldn’t stand completely still. The way they twitched and fidgeted. The way they weren’t making eye contact, but rather watching the travelers’ hands. All of this indicated to him that these men intended on doing them harm. Holnveth sighed and turned to the others. “I will do the talking. But be ready for a fight,” he whispered. They stopped a few meters from the brigands.

What does the brigand leader look like?

Looks: Short

Personality: Merciful

Archetype: Turtle

The smallest raised a hand. He was a squat man, hunched over from years of poor posture and hard living. He was smiling a toothless grin, the corners of his eyes crinkled with mock hospitality.

“Welcome to Calen March.” He drew out the last two words sarcastically, and the other brigands chuckled.

Description + Noun Oracle: Murky Cave

The man continued. “Before I let ye pass, we need ye to come with us into this here cave.” He motioned to a dark cave entrance just beyond the bend.

“Why?” Holn asked brusquely.

Action + Theme Oracle: Discover Opportunity

Wants: Person (obviously will lie about this)

“Because, my friend, you need to pay the toll! Everyone entering Calen March must pay the toll.”

Holn’s mind was racing. This felt wrong. If this truly was a toll, they’d just demand the money and send them on their way. But to be brought into a cave? Something was off. Holn and Akal exchanged a glance, and he knew the thief felt the same way. Only a sliver of sun was still visible on the horizon.

Holn turned to the brigands. “How much is the toll? We’d really prefer to just give you the coin here and now, and be on our way.”

Charisma check: Fail

The bandits watched the exchanged like jackals observing prey. The leader shook his head, still smiling. “A pittance. Please, friend, let us go in. It’ll only be a moment. It’s where we gotta… process the transaction. Make it official.”

Holn gripped the haft of his spear. “No. We won’t go in there. And you’re not our friends.”

The sun set.

The leader frowned, dropping the facade. Through gritted teeth, “We was askin’ nice.” As if on cue, the five brigands drew their blades and began to close in.

Entering Combat

Initiative: Allies 2, Brigands 4.

Source: Public Domain

They leapt at Holnveth, their scimitars a flash of steel. He deflected three of them with his spear. Catching the wrist of one of the men, he twisted hard in a way that forced the man to drop his weapon. A searing pain as a scimitar bit deep into his side. He collapsed onto the road, quickly losing consciousness. Standing over him was the squat leader, blood dripping from his blade, turning his attention to the other Ratcatchers.

Holn tried to get up, but his body wouldn’t obey. His face pressed against the dirt. Get up, Holn. He was in such pain! He closed his eyes, moaning. All he could do was listen. The clang of weapons against chain. Rin’s chain shirt? Shouts. Cries of agony. He couldn’t tell who. But Shom spoke a word. Strange word… Somnis… Holn couldn’t hold on any longer.

The world faded.

TO BE CONTINUED.

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Thanks for reading chapter 1 of my solo actual play of Calen March by Castle Grief. I’m several sessions in already, and it’s been a blast. The old-school vibe is immaculate, the art is superb.

The ruleset I’m using is White Box: Fantastic Medieval Adventure Game. The solo oracle I’m using is the Ultimate One Page Solo Toolkit by Silver Nightingale.

Stay tuned for episode 2!

Here’s the map of the region, drawn by Castle Grief: