Eberron Campaign

Welcome to your campaign!
A blog for your campaign

Wondering how to get started? Here are a few tips:

1. Invite your players

Invite them with either their email address or their Obsidian Portal username.

2. Edit your home page

Make a few changes to the home page and give people an idea of what your campaign is about. That will let people know you’re serious and not just playing with the system.

3. Choose a theme

If you want to set a specific mood for your campaign, we have several backgrounds to choose from. Accentuate it by creating a top banner image.

4. Create some NPCs

Characters form the core of every campaign, so take a few minutes to list out the major NPCs in your campaign.

A quick tip: The “+” icon in the top right of every section is how to add a new item, whether it’s a new character or adventure log post, or anything else.

5. Write your first Adventure Log post

The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

That’s it! The rest is up to your and your players.

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PreEpisode 1
And so it begins...

Trapped. We are all prisoners here…days are spent actively awaiting torture and beatings, if we’re lucky. Death if we are not. We’ve come to know and realize that there are WORSE things than torture and death…

The young and the weak are not spared the torture, or the beatings. We are all young. We are Different. Dragonmarks have made themselves known…as they have manifested upon each of us. Therefore, we must be studied…such as a predatory bird might study its prey. We are objects. We are less than persons. We are like so many insects under the onslaught of implements of pain and magicks.

Some pray for deliverance from this pain. Some pray for death. And for some…the latter is blissfully granted.

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PreEpisode 2
Hated Tarik...and the art of pain

They say Mom never spoke of the attack…but she bore the scars from it until she died. In childbirth. Giving birth to me. An abomination of elf and demon.

My elven father never forgave me for mom’s death. I was different. I was “of him that had hurt her”. I’d been the tool that finished the job. I was to be resented. Abhored. To be endured…only, because she would have wanted it that way.

I’d been born a Tiefling. Half elf, half…evil thing to be hated. I kept my hair long, so my small horns were not seen. I could usually pass for an elf…but I was taller than strictly average, possessed of lean muscle, and an unnatural intelligence. My skin was a bit darker than normal, and almost translucent. After dark, I was told my red-brown eyes reflected the night sky similar to those of a large hunting cat. And as if I wasn’t already “different enough”…I also possessed a small, scaled, reptilian tail.

We moved frequently, my dad taking odd, meaningless jobs…until folks realized who he was, or who or what I was. Despite my best efforts to hide beneath a cowls, cloaks and baggy clothes, I would inevitably be seen for the abomination that I was. A farmer once told me why his animals were uneasy around me…”Boy, you have the look and smell of a predator”. Not a pleasant analogy, but it was good to at least be acknowledged by another being. My father merely sneered at me when that had happened…ashamed that I’d been noticed at all.

I can remember the day my dad took his own life. He stared at me as he did so…a blade to his wrists, his eyes filled with tears. But his eyes were cold…so cold. Completely without compassion or remorse. I was 11.

I was in and out of orphanages for years following. No one wanted the responsibility of raising me, being near me. I was often beaten by staff members. I escaped when I could, found other cities and other orphanages when winter came. I was bullied…always bullied. Persecuted for being different. I was bigger, faster, stronger, more intelligent than others my age…and was resented for it. And I was “different”. I honestly tried to help others, if for no other reason than to atone for the fact that I existed at all. Few others would accept my help. Many feared me, most hated me. Sometimes when I was ganged up on, I’d respond…with fierce words of hate. Bad things…unexplainable things would sometimes happen to those I’d been angry with. It felt good to lash out…physically…mentally, but with it too came shame…for in those moments, I would become that which they most wanted me to be. A monster…

Unable to cope with public perception, and refusing to give my dad’s ghost an ounce of satisfaction…I struck out on my own at 13. Alone.

One late summer day, I was sleeping near a remote mountain lake. It was an ancient and peaceful place, of solid stone and earth. I attempted to start a fire, and it jumped to life. The air was sweet and clean, the wind a gentle caress. Everything seemed so…wild. Untamed. I spent several blissful and tranquil weeks in the grotto there. Over time, I was visited by…a presence. No name, no words…just…a presence. An understanding took place…although I had no way to prove it, for we’d not communicated. At least not in the traditional sense. The presence took nothing, and promised even less…but when I awoke the next morning, I felt different. I can’t explain why or how, only that it felt as if…something had awoken within me.

At 15, I was captured stealing food one winter, and beaten terribly. Was again put in an “orphanage”, but this time that was really just a fancy term for a “jail for young folks”. I wasn’t quite as alone here, as I was bigger than others—I was treated with a sort of distant respect, only because I was an ally of sorts. There was no loyalty there, however. Kids here were periodically sold into slavery, or as mercenaries—there wasn’t time or the desire to make more of the situation.

One day we were awoken early, yanked from bed, and examined…like cattle. Three of us were taken. We “had the mark”, they had said. I didn’t know what they’d meant, at the time. Now I understand that my dragonmark had begun to reveal itself high up on my chest and left shoulder.

I welcomed the location change, at first. But soon realized these were cruel people. They experimented on us, with science and magicks. Some of us died from the abuse, some were damaged mentally. Some few of us responded in different ways. The experiments were terrible, but amid the agony—subtle powers revealed themselves to me…shadows in particular, but even the elements seemed aware of my proximity. Stone, air and water, even fire…it felt as though they could sense me the way my senses were aware of them. I’ve not experimented with these powers, I’ve kept them hidden from my cruel masters, mostly because I don’t know how they’d react. But something has changed within me. And perhaps without, as well. Over time, I grew to enjoy the pain. In ways I don’t fully understand…the alertness of my surroundings and of those around me grew as well.

I think there may be a way out of here, am pretty sure I have a fair chance of escape. But I won’t go without the others. I’m not fooling myself, I have no friends here…but no one deserves this. Perhaps I can even the score…make a difference. Repent. Repent for…for just having been born at all…

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PreEpisode 3
Skall, and the art of sanity. Trust me, Sanity is over-rated...

You see a gnome sitting in the corner of the cell, slightly mumbling to himself. When a guard walks by you might hear him say “Size 9 1/2, iron shod, about 2 years old.”

He’s sort of a permanent fixture here. Been there for as long as you have, in fact he might have been one of the first.

The guards don’t bother him or take him as much as they do everyone else. Sometimes they’ll beat him unconscious and take him, but often when come to take him…he looks up menacingly and you could swear his eyes actually turn red. The guards scurry away towards easier targets, often nervously mumbling something about “the incident”…

He seems nice enough, introduces himself as Skall, then mumbles something like, “I wonder if Owlbear skin can be tanned.” He is dark haired, very very slim build, as if he’s been starved, chained up, or otherwise contained for far too long. But there’s just something about him. He’s almost magnetic. And warm, I mean actually warm, like standing next to a cooling oven.

When the walls start shaking he looks up smiling. It’s time to go…

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PreEpisode 4
Carth and the art of coming of age...

My father was a ship captain named Charles “Bull” Cerin and my mother was a dervish dancer from a faraway desert named Mirta Dawnflower. Though her skin was dark, her hair was white, which she passed on to me. I was told that we had angle blood in our line. Growing up I took after her and she taught me the dervish ways, but I never developed the same devotion to her Gods. When I was 13 my father set sail and I never saw him again. Over the years I heard rumors of a rogue corsair ship named the Rooster’s Dawn, which was my father’s ship. When I was 16 I signed on for my first ship. I was out for over a year. That first voyage was when my mark first appeared. I did not even notice it. It was the crew that pointed it out. They said it was a bad sign. When I finally made it home my mother was gone. A friend of the family said she went to find my father. I lived on my own, but no ship would have me on account of my mark, so I sang and preformed for my income.

One night when I was 19 I was attacked and taken. The men would not say why, and the journey was long. Eventually I ended up in a cell in some castle. There were a few kids already in the cell, with more coming over time. Our captors experimented on us, me most of all. Of course it was my fault. I constantly antagonized the guards and sought their ire. I could not stand by and let them hurt all these kids. I volunteered whenever they came to take someone. Sometimes it worked and sometimes I ended up spitting blood from the guard’s fist. I tried to keep people’s spirit up. I sang songs, and if I managed to get a full night of sleep I healed a few wounds. Something was happening with these experiments though; I found that I could purify food and water, even the worst most rotten kind. I think that saved a lot of people. It looks like our captors brought in some adults. They look capable. Maybe this is our chance to escape.

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PreEpisode 5
Arvin Tandoor...and the arts of faith and truth

Oh lord, I know it has been some time since we spoke, but I need your strength. These monsters did something to that little girl in the cell next to mine. Why did they focus on her? Whatever they are trying to get out of these wretched marks is causing so much pain. WHAT the HELL did she do? She was just 11, maybe 12, so young. I wish I could have traded spaces with her. I pleaded to them to take me instead, but they just laughed at me and took her anyway. Oh god, those screams, those terrible terrible screams………………sobs. I don’t think she is coming back………..sobs. I think her fire is gone from this world. Lord, please watch after her soul.

I was not strong enough to save her, but I’ll be dammed if a fate like this befalls another one of these poor souls stuck here with me. I am ready to stand up and fight. No more, will I let them take these good people away and do their experiments. These are not men, they are animals. Carrion of the worst kind, and they need to be stopped. Monsters like them do not deserve to live among us. All they do is pray on the weak and powerless. These evil things must be ended.

The monks have enlightened me and gave me new purpose in my life. I now have hope that I can help protect those who can’t do so for themselves. You must have guided me to them after having to leave the Abby. They did not think ill of me for not having nothing to offer them in trade when arriving at their monastery. They have lit a fire in my heart that will burn bright for a very long time.

I never received any kind of encouragement from those that lived at the Abbey. Brother Maynard and many of the others did not view us orphans as anything but slaves. I do not hate Brother Maynard, as his teachings did bring me to you. I even understand why he turned me in after discovering this mark. However, he was wrong, and I could have done great things for the abbey if given the chance. I truly wish he would start thinking of others as much as he thinks for himself. He seems very power hungry, you should keep an eye on him.

You know that I will not stray from your light, but I must forge my own path now. I……………..I hear a battle going on. Wait, did you send someone to aid us lord? Will I get a chance to AVENGE that little girl? Oh lord, please give me the chance to overcome this evil and right the wrongs they have placed on us.

Oh shit…….what is that?

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They're Back!
Skall's Musings - 1
I had the dream again last night. I know it was because I saw them again. I’m sure they are not the same ones, but they all look alike, so who knows. It would explain why they were so reluctant to surrender. Suffer a goblin to live? Never! That Paladin girl ain’t that bad, but she doesn’t understand. None of them really do. It was those big eared, big smile, green skin bastards that killed my parents and sold me to the long legs. For two years I suffered due to those little ankle biters. I’ll not be captured again. I tried to leave it alive, but leave it alone and let it continue to hurt people. I don’t think so. The trifling gave me a nice big snake skin. I might try to make some shoes for that Dancing Dude. The slick skin would sure make him move smoother. Once I get strong enough I can put a little glimmer on them. I’m sure of it. Each day we’ve been free I feel a little stronger, but I doubt I’ll ever get back to the way I was. This twisted scarred body will be my reminder to be stronger, be better, and strike first. It’s a long road outta here, but we’ll see what comes. In the mean time, burn baby burn.
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Episode One: Opportunities Arise
Of isolation and crumbling stone...

The attack came from above…the old keep thrumming with each resonating beat. It was interesting at first, just a rhthmic beat that was at the edge of our senses.

Then it grew louder…and dust began to fall.

When the upper level collapsed down the stairwell going up, it also damaged the walls of the cell area. A few of us were able to break free of their cells, and thankfully took the time to release those of us that were physically able to attempt escape as well. It was an odd sensation, those first few minutes…a small taste of freedom that felt so alien on the tongue. There were eight of us, I think. We rallied together, fashioned a handfull of makeshift weapons, and set out as a group to find a way out.

We were lucky at first, we found food and water, even clothing. We encountered some giant rats at one point. Looking back, these were a cakewalk compared to what we would find later…

We realized no one could come to us due to the area of the collapse, but we were ready to be free of the keep. One of us—I’m still learning their names—discovered a crack in the wall that showed a possible way out (was a hollow space behind that wall). Several had some experience, and proved useful. There’s two Aasimar, a gnome, a couple humans…and just the one abomination. Me.

We set up watches and took turns trying to break down the wall. One small gnome among us…Skall I think his name is, is a magic user of some sort, and appears to be an excellent judge of footware.

We fought our way through some undead, and I got paired up with a giant cockroach-looking creature…I hit it very hard with my makeshift club, but it really beat the mess out of me. I was down on one knee about to check out when two of our group came back to assist me…me! We managed to slay all the creatures, and one or two of us have some healing abilities. We walked for hours, but couldn’t escape the tunnels and be free of this Keep. The following day, we discovered a massive cavern, dissected by a not too small flowing river. One highly dexterous member, I forget his name, was a strong swimmer. It wasn’t easy, or without danger, but he and eventually the rest of us, made it across. I think it was at this point that we realized we’d lost one of our group along the way, in our haste to be free of this place.

We took watches, and relied on one another to conquer obstacles. We have a sense of unified purpose…escape…that drives us on to exhaustion. Am unsure if it will last, there is some testiness between a member or two, but it could be worse.
One potential escape lies through a cavern guarded by an intimidating looking creature. He looked capable and had real weapons and armor…we were pursuaded to take another way. The other way involved Goblins, snakes, and spiders—and not necessarily in that order! We seem to be just strong enough to overcome obstacles and creatures, but we’ve relied on luck quite a bit. We found a glistening underground water source that appeared to have healing properties, but we seem to have used up it’s power resting in and consuming it. We’re still “almost” lost in the goblin caverns, and will soon be forced to rest again…

So far, I’ve been treated almost as an equal. How long will this last is anyone’s guess, but we’re making due as a group thus far…our skill sets seem to complement one another.

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Episode Two: To be free of the darkness
Survival…it’s not just for breakfast anymore

Woke up in the middle of the night to the noises of goblins approaching. Rylee’d been on watch, and her raised fist indicated we should remain very quiet…but the goblin party moved on and we were left in relative safety on our Cliffside sanctuary.

In the morning, we restarted our journey down the cave adjacent to the healing pool, but after several hours, the passage closed on us…debris from the events of the prior day apparently had led to a tunnel collapse in this area as well. So we backtracked back to the smaller cave system where we’d encountered the goblins (and other things). We retreated from this cave system into the large cavern and considered our options…fight the creature that guards the other tunnel, or try the remaining cave.

Considering our makeshift weapons and dysfunctional armor pieces, we elected to pursue the latter. At first, we regretted this decision as the cave was going deeper into the earth, away from our ultimate desination…the surface. After several hours, and a number of awkward glances between party members as we considered our situation, suddenly the cave began to ascend.

Skall the sorceror noticed it first…the walls in this area have been worked by humanoids. The air changed here too, smelling fresher, but with a, deep, earthy tone. As we climbed, the ambient light seemed to be increasing. Bioluminescent moss on the roof of the cave glowed ever so slightly.

We came to a turn in the cave that led to a cavern, and everyone’s senses went on overload. Tarik crept forward and peeked around the corner…and spied a dense field with some clumps in it. Then he realized those clumps were the bodies of goblins. Arven and Skall stepped out from the cave and approached the field, noting some buildings in the distance…which included what appeared to be a keep of some sort with high walls. Tarik approached one of the goblin corpses to analyze it, when Skall shouted—vines had erupted from the field growth and wrapped around his legs. Arven approached the vines around Skall to attack, when he too was grabbed by vines. Scrimshaw rushed out to assist Skall and Carth charged in to assess the full situation. Each team member fought to free each other.

Arven was the first to break free, and he and Carth charged a larger mound in the field—they had realized that was the source of the vines. Tarik picked up a spear from the dead goblin and started quickly making his way to the battle. Tarik threw his spear, but missed badly…muttering beneath his breath. Skall took a lot of damage, but was able to send bolts of magic into his attacker. Scrimshaw fought the vines both from himself and to free Skall. Arven and Carth continued to hammer the larger plant mound, but it could take a lot of damage and keep on fighting. Tarik made it to Skall and Scrimshaw, but then got tied up in vines himself and was unable to fight free for a bit.

<< Roaarrr >>

It came from across the field, just a large and dark shambling shadow at first which revealed itself as a massive mushroom-based, mycanoid-type creature. This creature charged into the fray…Arven and Skall rose to face it, while Scrimshaw turned his attentions on the mound. Skall and Tarik managed to break free of vines, Tarik retrieved the spear while Skall sent more magic missiles into the mound. Scrimshaw healed Skall, while Tarik attacked the mound. Arven and Carth’s attacks were only partially effective against the mushroom creature…his spongy body absorbed some of the impetus of bladed weapon attacks.

Skall nailed the mushroom creature with a spell, which enraged the creature…which then raced to attack Skall, despite Arven and Carth raining unimpeded attacks on him. Tarik’s offensive struggles continued, while Skall took massive damage from the creature. The entire party encircled the creature, attempting to hold it still, but it wanted Skall with a passion and wouldn’t be deterred. Skall then fell into darkness from his massive injuries, and Tarik grabbed the gnome up and turned to keep him from being obliterated by the monster. The monster’s hatred for sorcerer skall was so great, it barely damaged Tarik’s exposed back, so intent on attacking the gnome, it was. Carth and Arven’s attacks finally brought both creatures to bay, while Scrimshaw’s skill proved effective as he coaxed lost Skall back to breath again. Tarik and Carth raided the bodies of the goblins for anything useful, while Arven moved towards the buildings in the distance.

Our heroes arrived at the keep first. It was a somewhat tall, non-scaleable structure…the drawbridge had rotted away to nothing. The moat was deep. Arven retrieved a goblin body and thew it into the water, and with a massive splash—the body was pulled to the depths below by something very large.

Vowing to return to the keep, Carth urged the group to investigate the buildings to the side. Some were in disrepair, but most were intact…but hadn’t been utilized in some time. Several chests were discovered, one of which had some gems and coins in it. One set of scale mail armor was discovered…it was decided to give it to Tarik.

The dead goblin display in the water had the group on edge about swimming the moat. As a group, with some well-conceived prayers and ingenious crafting and engineering skills—managed to erect a temporary, if not precarious drawbridge.

The keep proved to be fairly (and thankfully) boring by comparison, several long-abandoned weapons remained from an unknown occupation, but a back exit was discovered and it appeared to climb towards the surface. The parthway was well constructed, made of well-carved stone as we continued to climb. Dim light became stronger, we cast aside our torches. As we approached the surface, we experienced conflicting emotions…daylight…and hopefully freedom, teased and antagonized us from a distant half-mile ahead.

The surface was…absolutely beautiful! Tho’ none of us could look for long and were forced to avert our faces as our long-dark eyes fought for focus through the pain of the first bright light we’d seen in months, if not longer for some of us.

In the far distance, beyond the fields, there were forests. We headed that way to be “away” from the entrance to our “former slave pens”, and to provide some cover and/or shelter. Chills ran through our bodies as also in the distance, but not nearly as far as we’d have liked, were the howls of massive Worgs. The sounded as if they were coming closer. Not wanting to be caught in the open by these murderous creatures, we began running towards the trees….and later towards a home-type building we could now see. We closed on the building surprisingly fast…fear of the creature, fear of the unknown, and fear of being denied the sweet taste of freedom we’d only minutes old on our tongues, we ran like the wind!

We made the lodge with very little time…we ran through the open gate, and much to our surprise, the Worgs stopped just short of the fence and were seemingly unable to pass into the incomplete enclosure.

We explored the lodge…it was large, with a big cooking area, several sleeping areas, a library, inside running water…it was amazing! A few of us even bathed—though one or two of the others, we’d really appreciate if they would as well <audible>
We ran a reduced watch this night. Everyone slept well…Tarik fell asleep in the library reading. So many books from many sources. A truly brilliant collection, most of the books were first editions. In the morning, Skall and Arven were flirting with the “outside”, just beyond the partial gate. The Worg tracks were still present, but there was no sign of them or the tracks leading away. In the distance, Arven spied a hill no one had detected last night…we roused the rest of the party and made for the hill…

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