Two weeks have passed since the disaster beneath the West End. The city is stabilizing. The sewer lines are patched. Life is returning to something resembling normal. And yet, beneath the surface, tensions remain.
You are summoned to Guardian Headquarters in the normal manner: a Gnome courier arrives with a Sivis Message Scroll. It contains no names, only the faint seal of Nellix city and the phrase: “There is work to be done.”
Institute Hill seems peaceful today despite the cold rainstorm that has settled in. The stores and taverns are open and citizens dodge the raindrops as best they can moving from place to place.
The increased presence of the City Guard is the only reminder that the city is still in peril. Due to the now 50 citizens of Institute Hill who have been reported missing, patrols have been doubled. Additionally, private security officers from the Iron Fist have been assigned to assist and bolster guard patrols.
You arrive at the Mayor’s Mansion just before 10 bells. The common rooms are occupied, as usual, by aristocrats and politicians enjoying the hospitality of the Mayor’s Office. Nothing seems unusual or out of the ordinary as you walk the halls to the private library to access the hidden elevator that takes you down, down to Guardian Hall.
You join your fellow Guardians at the obsidian table. You see that the Mansion is illuminated on the engraved map on the tabletop and the team’s markers are in position on the map.
The Mayor arrives and takes his place at the raised dias and podium. He sets down his Arcane Slate and an armful of dossier files before regarding you with a tired but genuine smile. The three Captains, Alpha, Beta, and Gamma are noticeably not in attendance today.
He greets you and comments about the weather beginning to turn colder. Winter, he says, may be coming sooner than later. He thanks you sincerely for your help in the West End investigation.
Although there is no hard evidence, it would seem that the sabotage in the sewers is the work of whatever supernatural force is entrenched within the deeper levels of the undercity. The red-eyed rats gnawed away support beams to cause collapses and seal off secondary tunnels.
Filge believes that Kastor Liberung was possessed or controlled by that same supernatural force, directing him to destroy the main sewer pipelines that caused the disaster two weeks ago.
We have reason to believe that this type of possession could be involved in the 50 missing citizens in Institute Hill. No one from the other districts has been reported missing. Only Institute Hill. Maybe this same supernatural force is – for lack of a better word – collecting aristocratic members of the city.
“Thank you,” he says. “Your courage has served the city well.”
Your actions in the West End confirmed the sabotage and bought the city a measure of breathing room. But the Mayor admits the threat is far from over.
As far as the Five Families, the elimination of their sixteen top leaders has disrupted their activities in Nellix. But the Families are damaged — not defeated — and recent intelligence reveals a deeper betrayal: William Fletcher, the Spymaster of Nellix, has been collecting protection money from the crime syndicates for years. Worse, the Mayor believes Fletcher is acting under the influence — or at the behest — of Hadric, Mayor of Leukish, capital of the Duchy of Urnst.
That political poison will have to be uprooted in time. But that is not your task today. Instead, the Mayor turns Southeast to another matter – one with both political and historical weight – in the village of Silver Falls.
Duke Lorinar’s eldest son is to be married to Countess Belissica Gellor, and the Mayor intends to present a gift of true significance — not mere gold, but a symbol of dynasty and legacy. Rumors and fragments of intercepted correspondence point to the existence of ancient relics once belonging to the former Overking, lost for generations.
Recent inquiries trace these relics to Silver Falls, a hard-scrabble frontier town, and more specifically to a lost vault somewhere in Silverbough Keep, the old fortress-turned-ruin that presides over the region. The Mayor believes the particular object hidden there is the Medallion of the Overking — a regalia of historic and symbolic importance.
But Silverbough Keep is no ruin. It is still being used as a dungeon and it also may contain a secret vault lost and forgotten that may contain relics of the former Overking.
Long ago it stood as a sentinel fortress; in more recent memory, it became a prison and then fell into disuse. Today few dare approach its broken walls. At its heart resided Merlyn, an aged and eccentric wizard appointed long ago to guard the strange magics of the place and its even stranger, lingering dangers. Local legends say Merlyn survived centuries by mastery of arcane secrets and continues to watch the keep from its crumbling tower — a solitary, inscrutable figure amidst the disarray of ruin and wilderness.
When the Keep recently fell to the Drow Elves from beneath the Celadon Forest, Merlyn and his Dragonborn ranger assistant were forced to retreat to the safety of the Keep’s tower. In a desperate measure, they collapsed a section of the walls, trapping the Drow and the underground corridors within the ruins. Though the Elves remain imprisoned, the Keep is now a place of lingering peril, haunted by whatever evil the Drow Elves may summon to their side.
“I feel this is a unique and meaningful opportunity,” explains Huffman. “If the Lost Vault of the Overking can be found and the relics recovered, we may be able to bring these relics to bear against whatever evil dwells within the deep places of our city.” He pauses. “And afterward, these relics can be presented to the Duke’s son at the coming nuptials as an act of respect.”
Your mission is straightforward in intent but delicate in execution:
You are to travel to Silver Falls under false pretenses — whatever guise you choose, but not as official representatives of Nellix or the Mayor.
You’ll be provided with everything you need to make the trip. It will take two days to reach your destination.
Once there, you are to locate the Secret Vault. It is thought to be within Silverbough Keep on the first level.
The Mayor will not accompany you. He is himself departing to attend the Conclave of the Mayors of the Duchy, the final political conference of the year — a gathering that may turn the wheel of regional influence. He travels with Duchess Verin Talnith of Woodwych, who attends as a guest of honor and political ally.
Before you depart, the Mayor reminds you that West End continues to recover, that the monster in the sewers will still cast long shadows, and that powerful players in Urnst watch every move. The relics you seek are more than an heirloom — they are a potential lever of influence, symbols of forgotten power, and a test of your resolve.
The relics you seek are companions to the Royal Scepter you concealed within the Mansion during Brewfestival. The Overking was known to wield that Scepter along with a ring, a medallion, a crown, and a belt.
“Make ready,” he says. “You depart at first light, 5 bells.” He nods confidently. “And remember, the enemy wears a friendly face.”
When the sixteen leaders of the five crime families fell, the streets of Nellix did not erupt in chaos. They held their breath in anticipation.
The assassinations had been clean, precise, and devastating. Within a single night, the old mob patriarchs—men who had ruled by blood, coin, and fear for decades—were gone. Officially, the city mourned a tragic spate of unexplained violence. Unofficially, everyone understood the truth: someone powerful had struck first, and struck perfectly.
What followed was not war in the open, but a war in the shadows.
Lieutenants and capos vanished. Safehouses burned without witnesses. Dock ledgers were altered, guildmasters bribed, informants found floating in the river with their tongues cut out. Each family fractured inward, crews turning on crews, old loyalties weighed against new promises whispered in candlelit rooms. No one claimed authority; authority was taken, knife by knife.
The Mayor’s name was never spoken aloud by the five families, but his shadow lay heavily over the entire conflict. Some crews thought he wanted to crush them completely, but others knew better. The real goal was to create a power vacuum. A fragmented criminal underworld was more vulnerable to outside manipulation, easier to exploit, and simpler to dismiss.
And yet Nellix was never the true battleground.
The five families originated within the capital city of the Duchy, Leukish, but like an illness spread quickly to all of the major cities of Urnst. Each of these cities, including Nellix, had cells of these families all acting on the ultimate orders of the Leukish godfathers.
Criminal enterprise flourished within the Duchy and the greatest of these enterprises was smuggling. And one of the things they excelled in was smuggling artifacts that needed to disappear because some things draw too much attention to be kept close. Relics that bent loyalty, devices that remembered old gods, objects that were sacred to supernatural forces—these were not treasures, but liabilities. Such things were moved away and hidden where power went unnoticed. And for this reason, the five families flourished as a necessary evil.
Silver Falls was one of those places.
The small town was a waypoint on a major trade route but guarded no border, and taxed no river worth fighting over. Its people were hard working, forgetful in the way of small towns, faithful to traditions whose origins no one could quite explain. That was why it was chosen. What was kept there was never meant to be used—only separated, watched, and quietly endured.
Seceral years ago, the families were contracted by Mayor Hadric of Leukish to move ancient relics recovered within the kingdom to storage within a secret vault situated in the unassuming town of Silver Falls.
Hadric enacted his schemes on his own without the knowledge of the Duke or the Executive Board made up of all the mayors from the largest cities in the Duchy. He conspired with the organized crime families to smuggle dangerous artifacts and stash them away to be overlooked and forgotten.
But when the sixteen leaders of the five families were eliminated, the Mayor didn’t just create a power vacuum—he created a logistical crisis. The families of Nellix had overseen and controlled smuggling routes, laundering houses, and—most importantly—storage sites for dangerous or illegal artifacts that were constantly moved throughout the Duchy.
Naturally, certain members of the crime families were willing to reveal trade secrets for advantages in obtaining powerful roles within the families. The Mayor was more than happy to pull a few strings to obtain the information he needed:
Where are the “lost” relics of Overking Ivid V of the royal House of Naelax?
In the days following the disaster beneath the West End, Nellix moved quickly—but not quietly.
Emergency funds were allotted by the Parliament of Peers and passed to the Vanthampurs to facilitate repairs.
The ruptured mains were sealed within hours, yet the damage ran deeper than stone and pipe. Entire blocks went without clean water for days, and the stench of the sewers lingered stubbornly in cellars, alleys, and meeting halls alike. Bucket lines formed at dawn around public wells, guarded by tired City Guardsmen and laborers from the Public Works Guild hastily reassigned to crowd control. Prices for clean water doubled, then tripled, before the Mayor’s office stepped in and imposed emergency rationing.
By the end of the first week, sickness followed. Nothing overt—no raging plague—but enough fever, cramps, and weakness to keep the chirurgeons busy and the hospitals full. Rumors spread faster than any infection: whispers of tainted water, of something living in the pipes, of shadows seen moving where no shadows should be. Most were dismissed as unwarranted fear … though not all of them could be so easily explained.
Unofficially, a handful of West End citizens contracted a swift, deadly disease now being called “The Red Death.” The symptoms were sudden, too quick to counteract. In less than thirty minutes, these patients developed purple-red welts that spread like hives across their skin followed by sharp stomach pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding as they began to literally “sweat blood” at such a rate that they died. Although the victims are being studied, the progression of the disease seems to have no logical explanation beyond pure chance and random misfortune.
Repair crews worked day and night, escorted by City Guards and Iron Fist security. Several workers refused to return below after claiming to hear voices echoing through sealed tunnels—voices that knew their names. A few sections of the old sewer network were deemed unsafe and permanently sealed, cutting off forgotten passages that had not been mapped in generations.
Two weeks on, the West End outwardly returned to normal. Water flowed again. Shops reopened. Life continued. From the outside, the matter appeared concluded.
It was not.
While emergency repairs succeeded in restoring service, the damage beneath the district was neither random nor purely mechanical. Several collapsed sections exhibited stress patterns inconsistent with age, corrosion, or pressure surge. Stone was displaced inward and outward simultaneously in at least two locations, suggesting force applied from within the tunnels rather than failure of the mains themselves.
Sabotage was determined to be the official cause of the disaster. However, neither the Spymaster or the Watch Commander knew about Kastor’s involvement.
Repair crews, guards, and assigned laborers submitted twenty-seven independent reports of auditory disturbances below ground during the first ten days of repairs. These included echoes that did not repeat naturally, whispered speech, and—most troubling—voices addressing individuals by name. These accounts have been officially attributed to exhaustion and fear. Unofficially, these reports link directly to whatever supernatural creature lurks beneath the city.
Several members of the Support Team believe that somehow the red-eyed rats have gained the ability to speak – or at least mimic sounds akin to speech.
Three sealed passages uncovered during reconstruction were absent from all modern civic maps. Their architecture predates the current sewer system and does not match known West End construction phases. By order of the Mayor’s office, these tunnels were officially sealed and removed from public record. However, unofficially, these forgotten passages are being explored and mapped by the Support Team using the magical tools like Arcane Eyes and Scrying to probe the tunnels.
Low-grade illness among residents continues at a rate just above the normal for this time of the year. Local physicians and clerics of Lydia report no single cause. Samples taken by the Public Works Guild from older lines produced irregular results, though all such data has since been seized by the Spymaster and his agents. Further sampling has been quietly suspended but the Support Team is trying to obtain a viable sample for analysis.
Finally, multiple witness statements from the initial incident and subsequent repair period reference a singular figure present near the point of rupture in the West side of West End. Descriptions vary in small detail but converge on key characteristics that identify Kastor Liberung who strongly resembles Edmund Creekside.
William Fletcher, the Spymaster, immediately demanded the arrest of Creekside. However, Selene Arkwright of the Parliment of Perts, and a covert operator for the Mayor’s Secret Police, acted as a liaison to provide plausible deniability to explain why Creekside may have been seen within the area. As of now, no official arrest warrant has been issued for Edmund. However, now the Spymaster’s agents are watching.
Publicly, Andre Huffman and the Council of Six have supported the city, expressed appreciation for the efforts of all the guilds, organizations, and merchants involved in helping to stabilize The West End district. Privately, he expressed his appreciation for the discretion shown by his agents. He has also made it clear that this event is to be considered a warning rather than a conclusion.
The West End is stable. The city beneath it is not.
It was one of the lesser demons summoned by the warlocks to march alongside the forces of Iuz. It had no name. It was one of the shambling hoards of unnamed lesser demons. But during the battles, its master was banished. It was free. And so it went into hiding.
For a hundred years it remained hidden, feasting on what little it could find: offal, insects, and worms. Over time, it grew in strength. It began to take shape, changing from a gibbering mass of flesh and teeth into a more manageable form. It formed a mouth and red, menacing eyes. It dragged itself along the cold, wet ground stalking prey in the darkness. And it tasted flesh for the first time.
First it was rat flesh. The creatures were plentiful in these dank tunnels. But in time, it devoured man flesh. And with every meal, it grew in fortitude. It was still unnameable. But it was the only unnameable. It was The Unnameable.
And now it had a new master. A master with beautiful silver eyes.
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A Sivis message scroll arrives at nearly 8 bells on Patchwall 22, delivered by the usual Gnome courier. It contains a simple message: “Report for duty at once.” It contains no name – only the faint imprint of Nellix’s municipal seal. But you know exactly what it means – Mayor Andre Huffman has summoned you to Guardian Hall.
There is work to do.
You make your way through Institute Hill, the polished Aristocratic district, the grand crest of Nellix flying overhead at its center from the highest peak of the Mayor’s Mansion.
The Mansion stands proudly on a central knoll—stone columns, polished glass, guards with impeccable posture, and everywhere the sense that power looks down on the city.
You walk past the caretakers and visiting nobles heading for the library. Behind a hallmark tapestry at the rear of the library is a hidden latch—one a practiced hand can feel. It clicks. The tapestry swings inward like a door, revealing an elevator — narrow, old-smelling, and descending deep into darkness.
The doors slide shut. The mansion above grows slowly distant. Lights flicker. You hear the whirr of machinery with no clear source.
Below this mansion, hidden well out of sight, lies Guardian Hall — HQ of the Nellix Secret Police.
The metallic hum fades. The elevator door slides open, revealing a long, narrow chamber carved directly into the stone beneath the mansion. The air is cool and smells faintly of oiled leather, candle smoke, ink, and old paper. Smooth stone walls curve upward into a vaulted ceiling supported by black iron ribs, each etched with faded sigils of civic authority and warding runes worn thin by time.
Hissing gas lamps hang in recessed alcoves, their light deliberately low, casting long shadows that refuse to stay still. No windows. No clocks. Behind the dais, the city seal of Nellix is set into the wall in blackened silver. Protective runes are etched all around the emblem.
At the center of the room stands a heavy obsidian table shaped like a blunt arrowhead, its point aimed toward a raised dais with a podium at the far end. Brass inlays trace the six city districts of Nellix across its surface each marked with tiny movable tokens that look uncomfortably like chess pieces when viewed too closely. Around the obsidian table sit your fellow Guardian officers. You try not to imagine them, and you, as the pawns on that chess board.
The dias across the room was empty for now, but you know that the Mayor will occupy it soon, issuing you information and orders on how you can best serve Nellix and its people.
A black horseshoe shaped table made of solid steel with three high-backed chairs waits behind the dias—meant for your Captains—Alpha, Beta, and Gamma who have not yet arrived.
Beyond this room, you know, are the offices where The Support Team is hustling and bustling with duties assigned by Huffman. But here, it is calm and quiet. Literally the eye of the storm.
The elevator door closes behind you, sealing with a heavy finality. You are privileged to be here, trusted with overwatch of the city.
There is work to do.
Before long, the Three Captains file into the room followed closely by Andre Huffman. Alpha, Beta, and Gamma raje their seats at the table behind the dias while Huffman steps up to the dias, setting down an Arcane Slate and a stack of files. Next to Huffman, beside the dias podium, stands the nervous Halfling clerk named Jeren, Huffman’s personal assistant and errandboy.
Huffman is dressed elaborately in nearly garish clothing as usual. However, today he seems tired. He gives off the feeling of being stretched too far across too many demands. He sighs and clears his throat and finally looks out at all of you.
“Good morning, my friends. Today is Patchwall 22. The month is drawing to a close but we have much to do. Please bear with me while I explain why I’ve called you here today.”
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“For three weeks, the undercity beneath the Northern Wards of the city, namely Steel Side, The Northern Slums, West End, and The Island have experienced sabotage that have resulted in damage to streets, water supply pipes, and drainage systems like the rail system, storm drains, and sewer tunnels. Likewise, reports of missing maintenance crews abound in these areas. Also, reports of rats continue to rise and the infestation within the city is abnormally abundant.”
“And as many of you are aware, officially these rats are simply vermin. However, unofficially we believe these creatures are being used as supernatural spies. All dissected specimens of these rats have the same documentation: they have a strange radioactive disease and excessive layer of tissue in their eyes that cause the eyes to glow a dull red. These rats seem to be controlled by someone or something much like a familiar but on a much larger scale.”
He pauses for questions.
He takes a breath to steady himself. “As many of you may know, there was a commotion this morning at 7 bells in Institute Hill. Law Enforcement reported discovering 16 severed heads on display near the Parliament of Peers. These heads were identified as sixteen of the highest ranking members of the Five Crime Families in Nellix who collectively call themselves the Brimstone Club.“
He pauses for a beat, then continues.
“Officially the situation is under investigation by all levels of Nellix Law Enforcement. Unofficially, I reveal to you that it was me who ordered the elimination of these sixteen criminals. It is only one step in surgically removing the rot that infects our precious city.”
Again, he pauses for questions or reactions from the playing characters.
“We have work to do.” He hands a parchment to Jaren who waddles it over to your table, placing it on the cold, obsidian surface. “This is a map of the upper sewer system in West End according to the most recent public record. You’ll notice two entrances marked in red. These are your best entry and exit points. You will sweep the upper sewers in the West End for evidence of tampering or sabotage. I advise against going into the deeper levels for now. You will investigate, record, and eliminate threats if necessary. Bring evidence back. HQ stands ready to support you. See the Support Team before you go for any services you may need.”
He pauses again.
“Remember that discretion is our most powerful weapon. Be careful out there. And do not forget: The enemy wears a friendly face.”
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TO WEST END
✴️ Our heroes travelled from Institute Hill to West End. Along the way, they noticed a group of City Watch surrounding a body. It turned out that a local courier, Albert Shannock, had been killed a few hours earlier. Our heroes inspected the scene, and Wilf determined that the victim had been killed by a single, expert strike. Also, a poison had been applied to the blade. It was later identified as a poison commonly made by Goblins extracted from venomous giant spiders. The City Guard secured the scene until Inspector Alphonse Hercules arrived to collect evidence.
✴️ Later, they approached the area where Sewer Node #5 was supposed to be according to the Mayor’s map. Instead they discovered a blank wall. Malin and Bori quickly deduced that this was an illusion and that the circular culvert gate lay concealed on just the other side of the false brick wall. Edmund recognized the spell as Major Image cast by a powerful wizard of at least the 11th rank to cause it to become permanent. They also noted that the lock on the gate bore a Glyph of Warding indicating that someone went to considerable efforts to conceal this specific entrance.
Using Mage Hand, Edmund set off the Glyph which triggered a Poisonous Smite spell that did not harm anyone. Afterwards, Malin used his Clockwork Crab automata, Wobbly, to pick the lock so that the group could enter.
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SEWER SWEEP
✴️ Exploring the sewers was slow, disgusting work. They noticed that the infrastructure was in poor condition, much worse than public records filed by the Vanthampur Family (who is in charge of maintenance of the city sewer systems) indicate in recent reports. The support beams were sagging in many places, the walls were in disrepair with missing mortar and bulging brickwork.
In the first room they found the bodies of two Iron Fist mercenaries, private security often used within Institute Hill, killed by expert strikes of poison blow darts to the neck. Again, the poison was Giant Spider venom. The two mercenaries had been stripped of their weapons and gear but their armor had been left behind.
In some places, side tunnels had been blocked off by deliberately collapsing the ceiling and intentionally piling up the debris to block the passages entirely. This sabotage seemed to purposely funnel workers into the main tunnels away from secondary routes. Later it was determined that the support beams in these collapsed areas were not sawed or hewn but gnawed away, probably by the red-eyed rats infesting the sewers.
In the second utility room, the group discovered three crates filled with equipment used by the Sewer Jacks who not only serve as City Guards in the sewers of Nellix but also acts as maintenance workers to repair the grates, pipes, and brickwork. The dates marked on the crates were from two weeks previous, Patchwall 8. Later, in another room deeper within the sewers, behind a locked door, Malin would find six more crates and the remains of a dozen Sewer Jack workers. These teams usually work in groups of four, so this was a collection of three teams murdered and abandoned in the room.
✴️ The red-eyed rats were there as well, watching and aggressive. It started with a group of three normal sized rats. The group quickly dispatched them but soon would realize that further into the tunnels two swarms (Malin called them “Rat Kings“) of rats menaced them from afar, blocking the tunnels to the West. And before long, small packs of 5 and 6 Giant Rats scrambled from the blocked off passages to harass the group, too.
Our heroes fought the rats for a short time, but before long a devious trap was set into motion. To the far West, a shadowy figure possessed by the will of Old Silver Eyes detonated three alchemical bombs, destroying three main sewer pipes and sending a cascade of foul water pounding down the main tunnel system directly at our heroes!
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SABOTAGE!
✴️ Kastor Liberung, a soldier and bounty hunter from the nearby Kingdom of Nyrond, was in town acting as a security detail for the Duchess of Woodwych. He was accompanied by two other Nyrond bounty hunters, Adolphus Kuftsus and Hergard Taseennick. The three agents had been seen hanging out with two bards, Albert Rosston and Brier Dunlap, and a mysterious man named Vell Morcant for the past two weeks. But last night, Kastor abandoned his post and hadn’t been seen since.
Now the man stood within the sewers, eyes gleaming red, his thumb on a detonator that would cause devastating damage to West End’s sewer system. It would cripple the district for a time until repairs on could be made. That might be months. Until then, West End would be without proper waste management.
“Now,” said Old Silver Eyes in a lusty, seductive voice that only Kastor could hear. “Do it now.”
Without hesitation, Kastor pressed the detonator. There was a hissing noise,then a series of three explosions. With a loud metal groan, the massive pipes burst, and Kastor was swept away by the tidal wave of filthy water.
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AFTERMATH
Our heroes survived the flood of sewer water. Kastor did not. They were confused to see that the dead man resembled Edmund uncannily. On the man’s body they discovered three pieces of paperwork: one signed by the Mayor’s office declaring him a political agent visiting Nellix on diplomatic function, a second identifying him as a bounty hunter named Kastor Liberung from the Kingdom of Nyrond, and a third being an official bank note declaring Kastor Liberung the owner of The Curiosity Shoppee in Nellix. The letter was addressed to the Sheriff of Silver Falls indicating that the deed to the shop be given to Kastor. Apparently the man had not yet collected the deed.
Before leaving the sewers, Malin also discovered a room where a strange ritual circle had been scratched into the floor. It was written in a bastardized form of Gnomish used by Xvarts, an offshoot of the Gnome species long ago twisted by Chaos magic. Within this circle, the floor was broken where twisted red, greasy roots had burst from the ground to create a large, profane tangled mass.
Later on, the Guardian Support Team identified these roots as corrupted Fairy Hawthorne roots. However, the corruption of these roots are known to the Elves of Celadon Forest as a “Gulthias Tree.” This type of corruption comes only from dark Chaos magic.
With all of these strange clues in mind, our heroes returned to the Mayor’s Mansion to share the outcome of their investigation. Indeed the sewers had been sabotaged, in more than one way. But beyond that, the undercity of West End seems to hold unsettling and eerie secrets.
THE MAYOR SPEAKS
After everything is said and done, the reports are filed and the Support Team has reported back with all their findings, Huffman calls you all into the meeting room for a debriefing.
Mayor Andre Huffman stands at his podium on the raised dias, rubbing his eyes before looking at you with something close to relief.
“You did good work. Hard work. The kind most people never see… and rarely thank.” He pauses. “So thank you. You risked your lives today for this city.”
He gives a tired smile.
“Nellix is still standing tonight because you went where others wouldn’t — and because you made it back alive.”
He sighs, rubbing his temples.
“What you uncovered wasn’t just crime or neglect. It was planning. Patience. Someone has been tampering and sabotaging the infrastructure of the city for some time. And now the damage is done. West End is one of the major residential districts of the city. And now they are without proper waste management. This is bad. Very bad.”
He glanced around.
“Your investigation reveals several strange things going on beneath the city. These are not coincidences. Somehow they are all connected. We simply must find the common threat to these oddities.”
A slight pause.
“Kastor Liberung is a wild card. Was he acting as a terrorist on the orders of the Duchess of Woodwych? Or was he truly a rogue agent perhaps corrupted by whatever supernatural force is controlling these mutated rats?”
He shakes his head.
“I’m honestly not sure.”
His voice is steady, but a bit quieter now.
“I won’t pretend this ends here. It doesn’t. But I trust you to help me keep this from becoming panic, or worse. Everything that happened today stays classified. Law Enforcement is not aware of your investigations in the sewers today. Plausible deniability explains away why you were seen by The Watch in the West End today. No one but us and the Duchess knows about Kastor or his actions today. Officially the Sewer Main breaks will be seen as a tragic accident. Not even the Spymaster will be made aware of the truth of what happened today in the undercity.”
He pauses again. He straightens up a little, his voice returning to a normal volume.
“You’re not expendable. You’re not tools. You’re people I’m willing to stake this city on. Your efforts today prove that.”
He nods.
“Get some rest. When the city sleeps… that’s when the next move will come. And when it does, I want you ready — because there is still work to do.”
In which is related the rise of Iggwilv, her conquest of Perrenland, and her war against the Knights of the Hart, her fall from power, and the rise of her detestable child, the Demon Lord Iuz.
Goliaths are a race created for the D&D 3.5 supplement “Races of Stone”, first published in August of 2004. Before that, Goliaths were not playable characters and were known as: “Giantkin” or “Stonechildren” usually considered a Half-Giant by 2nd edition rules.
Since D&D 3.5 was set in a revamped World of Greyhawk, Goliaths are available for play in the 2024 Revised version of the 5th edition rules using the Revised Greyhawk setting.
From the 2004 book:
The goliaths are burly hunter-gatherers who wander the forbidding mountains in tribes, trading furs, meats, and handicrafts with both the giants and the dwarves. Theirs is a competitive culture that simultaneously embraces the importance of the tribe and the worth of the individual.
Towering over most folk, Goliaths are distant descendants of giants. Each goliath bears the favors of the first giants—favors that manifest in various supernatural boons, including the ability to quickly grow and temporarily approach the height of goliaths’ gigantic kin.
Goliaths have physical characteristics that are reminiscent of the giants in their family lines. For example, some goliaths look like stone giants, while others resemble fire giants. Whatever giants they count as kin, goliaths have forged their own path in the multiverse—unencumbered by the internecine conflicts that have ravaged giantkind for ages—and seek heights above those reached by their ancestors.
In the World of Greyhawk, prejudice against goliaths (or any giant-blooded folk) is very plausible—and sadly very logical—when viewed through the lens of Against the Giants (G1–G3) and its long shadow over the Flanaess.
The events of Against the Giants are not ancient history in most Greyhawk timelines. The coordinated assaults by hill, frost, and fire giants devastated much of the Flanaess involved in the conflicts.
The long shadow of the Giant Wars persists in The Duchy of Urnst. Even after the giants were defeated, fear lingered—and fear curdles into resentment.
Most common folk in Greyhawk do not distinguish between types of giants, let alone between giants and giant-kin. All blur together as “big folk who break things and kill people.”
This mirrors how post-war societies often blame descendants of an enemy rather than the enemy themselves.
Even if goliaths are not mentioned by name, the implication is clear: “What shares their blood shares their nature.”
The tragic irony is that Goliaths often actively reject giant tyranny, valuing: strength with restraint, survival without dominion,and personal honor. Yet they are judged not by their deeds—but by a war they did not start.
Whatever giants they count as kin or not, Goliaths have forged their own path in the multiverse—unencumbered by the internecine conflicts that have ravaged giantkind for ages—and seek heights above those reached by their ancestors.
Why look north for Chaos, when it is among us? The very air we breathe, the water we drink, our neighbours, even our children, all carry the taint of corruption. And whether it manifests now or sometime in the years ahead, this horror will awaken and consume us all. There is no escape friends, for we are the lost and the damned!
The Evil forces of Law and Chaos have waged the Blood War for millennia. It is an eternal conflict between the Devils of the Nine Hells and the Demons of the Abyss. The Blood War has raged on since the Age Before Ages, a dark period when the Material Plane had not fully developed. The conflict is massive, spanning entire planes of reality, and hosting an immeasurable number of combatants.
The Blood War is a remnant of the great war of Law against Chaos waged by the Wind Dukes of Aaqa against the forces of the Queen of Chaos. The vacuum of power created during the battle started the war which has never ended.
The forces of Law and Order fear that if the Blood War ever did end, the fundamental balance of the multiverse would shatter, likely leading to an apocalyptic scenario where either the victorious devils or demons, now free from fighting each other, would conquer the remaining planes, including the Upper Planes and Material Plane, ushering in an age of pure evil or chaos, or possibly a new cosmic war between freed Primordials and the gods.
Despite millennia after millennia of constant strife, no side has yet been able to gain a definitive, permanent advantage over the other. Despite their vast differences, the devils and the demons are surprisingly balanced combatants on the fields of the Blood War.
In the eyes of the Abyss, the war is one of attrition focused on wearing down an opponent through continuous, heavy losses in personnel, equipment, and resources, rather than decisive battles, aiming to break their will and ability to fight over a prolonged period.
In order to fuel this stragety, the Ruinous Powers of the Abyss have chosen to tap into the plentiful resource of the Prime Material plane and its mortal inhabitants. By utilizing the amoral cosmic energies of entropy, freedom, and change that serves as a powerful, yet destructive, compelling force that bring mortal into the servitude of the Abyss.
Chaos corrupts through vulnerability which drives mortals to deliberately or unintentionally to be put under the thumb of Chaos. Demons use the natural sinful nature of mortals to prey on them. These vulnerabilities come from pride, excess, desire, greed, sloth, wrath, and envy.
This corruption is cosmically understood as a deviation from the righteous standards set by Law and Order, which ultimately erodes the mortal through connection with the cosmic power of Entropy. This understanding is a force of nature akin to gravity or electromagnetism.
With this corruption the mortal is made vulnerable to the influence of the Abyss and its vile Ruinous Powers of Chaos. Sometimes this exposure to chaos energy is deliberate through the dedicated worship of Chaos. Other times, corruption is unintentional simply with the constant influence of the energies of Entrophy much like a smoker getting cancer from second hand smoke. But more frightening is the corruption of forces warring against Chaos, becoming a monster by fighting the monster.
Sometimes the mortal never pays the price until it dies, becoming a mindless demonic foot soldier of the Chaotic forces of the Blood War. But other times, the mortal undergoes a tragic mutation, turning them into a horrific creature in service to the Demon Princes of Chaos.
These mutants are called “The Lost and The Damned.” For them, there is no redemption.
That is the threat of Chaos.
That is the reason that the Cosmic Balance must be maintained.
Welcomed to this fevered mind of mine. Within the confines of this site you are encouraged to explore all that is within me to create, for create I must.
MEASURELESS EONS 
