Interlude: Twelve Years Ago….

Year 32 of the New Calendar – The Southern Masaan Range   An old man, a woman, and a twelve-foot-tall stone giant follow a ridgeline high in the mountains amidst gale-force winds and biting snow.  She stumbles and nearly slips down the slope to her death, but is caught by the old man, who plants his staff in the snow and uses it as an anchor to pull them both back to the path.   “We can’t go on like this, girl, you’re leading us to our doom!” he shouts.   “Just a little farther, there’s shelter!” she responds.   “How can you possibly know that?!?!  No one has ever lived up here!”   She smiles and pats him on the cheek with frostbitten hands and continues trudging ahead.   Another hour passes, and the two human travellers are...

Khevoran 3 Session Notes: 18 March 2017

Khevoran 3 Session Notes: 18 March 2017

The campaign begins with a cutscene. Twenty years ago, around October of 1997, I began telling a story.     This is how it ends.   —   At the edge of the swamps north of Trinsic, there stood a dark tower.  Soldiers drilled in a small patch of land cleared between the tower and the bay and crossbowmen stood watch behind the parapets.  Inside, they drank, slept, laughed.  Did all the things that soldiers do.   There was a large room at the top of the tower, packed full of books, maps, and the occasional martial bauble.  There were two desks, a small one, at the back, where an old man sat translating an ancient and brittle scroll into a fresh book, and a large one in the middle of the room, facing the door, where a middle-aged man sat,...