Rain: Season 1, Episode 1, Part 1

For Rain, I am running Mythras (formerly Runequest 6, and the free Mythras Imperative) with the Classic Fantasy supplement (preview here). Classic Fantasy brings pre-3rd edition D&D to the d100 system; 3rd through 5th might take a little thought without Feats. The setting uses the 1st edition Forgotten Realms Campaign Set with FR2 Moonshae. The adventures are created with the Dungeon Master's Design Kit, while the dungeon is made with the Judges Guild Ready Ref Sheets. I will also be experimenting with breaking up the episodes so each scene will be one post. Might make it more palatable with bite size pieces. At the end of the post, I'll include Rain’s character sheet.

Unfortunately, I could not find any resources on what Genna Moonsinger looked like, not having read Darkwalker on Moonshae. Only that she’s old, wrinkly and stout. So, I have to make up my own version of her.

I have read that Mythras has flavorful but lethal combat. Let's see how long Rain survives...

THEME	Action/Adventure
GOAL	Explore a New Area
STORY HOOK	Old Friend: Genna Moonsinger
SETTING	Classic Dungeon
ALLIES	Aravae Daewynn, Genna Moonsinger
MASTER VILLAIN	Agent Provocateur
MINOR VILLAIN	Daughter with the Heart of Gold
PLOT	The A-B-C Quest
CLIMAX	Prevented Deed with Throne Room Duel as secondary

Season 1, Episode 1, Part 1: True (Amaranthe)

A figure stood apart from the tangle of others in the main square. He was the same height as a human male, but his lithe form seemed fragile and thin by comparison. His bronze head was topped by short black hair with matching eyes. Even without the pointed ears, he was already marked as an elf. Some might call him a high elf, but he was one of the Llewyrr, native to Gwynneth and the Moonshae.

He wore simple clothes when he wasn't out hunting, dark trousers and a summer green shirt. Calf high dark leather boots covered his feet, soft soled so he could move quietly. He didn't have much use for accessories, aside from the ever present dagger at the small of his back. The elf turned his gaze south.

From his vantage point, he could see the tree line where the Grove of Meditation began. He looked through the passers by and felt a small pang of shame. He barely had any magical reserve, not enough to master the most basic cantrip. The Grove is where elves went to commune and grow their arcane abilities.

Behind him, the silver and crystal city of Chrysalis dominated the valley. Aside from the elves, very few were permitted to marvel at its ingenuity. Towers that touched the clouds constructed of crystal and glass. An immense wall, almost transparent, surrounded the city on all sides. That was not their only defense.

North, beyond Chrysalis, were the horse farms. These bred the white chargers the Sisters of Synnoria rode into battle. Another pang of shame pulled at him. He was trained in the martial arts, as all elves were, but he was considered too weak for the front lines. The guilt washed away with a moment of pride. Still, he had made his own way. If that was the path the Goddess set him on, so be it.

“Lost?” someone asked behind his elbow.

The elf turned and was briefly surprised to find a short human woman standing behind him. Genna Moonsinger smiled. She stood up to his shoulder with chestnut hair and brown, earthy eyes. She wore cloth in shades of wood, splashes of green and yellow peeked from between their folds. A Druid, her task was to guard the Moonwell, the magical waters that could heal wounds. Small wonder she could sneak up on him.

“Just thinking,” he replied.

“Dwelling is not thinking, Nalmyraen. Too much time, I think.”

“I'm an elf, Genna,” Rain said, pointing at an ear. “I have nothing but time.”

Genna chuckled, a warm and inviting sound. “True.” She cleared her throat, becoming more businesslike. “Speaking of too much time, the Earth Mother has a task that needs doing, and I think you're just the one to do it.”

Rain smiled, at first thinking this was a joke, “And that would be?”

“There's been trouble brewing near Thorndyke. They think it comes from the north, about a day. We would like you to investigate the validity of their claims.”

He shrugged. “Three days to get there then, just to see if they're lying about their problems?”

“Yes. I would rather you find nothing than get too involved. See what you can see then come back. Alright?”

“No promises,” Rain said with a grin.

Genna scowled. “That's what I'm afraid of. Still…,” she turned and headed back toward Myrloch where her grove and the Moonwell waited.

“What'd the Druid want?” a quiet voice asked as they watched the retreating form of Genna.

Rain smiled at the familiar voice. He turned to see Aravae coming up behind him. She was about his height and light to his dark. Her blonde hair was pulled tight into a tail wrapped by a sapphire ribbon. She must have been sparring because her torso was covered by a silver breastplate, the rest of her was clad in mud colored leathers save the white cloak of the Sisters of Synnoria. A longsword swayed at her hip as she approached. Aravae’s gold eyes turned from Genna and fixated on Rain.

“An assignment. Apparently from the Goddess.”

Her brows arched upward, not exactly mocking but amused. “Sounds important. Sooooo, why you?” she asked and elbowed him playfully.

Rain scowled. “I don't know. Maybe because I'm quieter than you folk crashing about in plate?”

Aravae feigned indignation. The silence stretched for several heartbeats. He watched her from the corner of his eye. She was thinking. Coming to a conclusion, Aravae unfastened her cloak and handed it to Rain.

“I have a cloak,” Rain said matter of factly.

“Of course you do. This is just in case your's gets torn,” Aravae pinned him with her eyes and grew serious. “And don't do anything dumb.”

“Male, you mean.”

Aravae laughed brightly. “Because men are dumb,” she said, adding a nod of finality. “And rare for us. Which makes you,” she poked him pointedly, “rarest of all. You are male, don't fight alongside us and don't have any magical aptitude to speak of.”

He had gotten into many fights over the latter two, but Aravae had a disarming smile. He knew she was joking. They'd grown up together, and Rain was closer to her than any other of their generation.

“Fine,” he said, his turn to feign indignation. “I'll try not to by myself.”

NALMYRAEN “RAIN” EVENSONG, ELVEN THIEF

Rank 1: Apprentice

STR 09

CON 13

SIZ 15

DEX 16

INT 15

POW 06

CHA 14

Damage Bonus: +0

Initiative Bonus: 16

Action Points: 3

Armor Points: 3 (except head)

Healing Rate: 3

Luck Points: 2

Move: 20

Age: 114

Height: 5’10” Weight: 130

STANDARD SKILLS

Athletics: 50

Boating: 22

Brawn: 24

Combat Style (Thief): 50

Conceal: 32

Customs: 70

Dance: 30

Deceit: 54

Drive: 22

Endurance: 26

Evade: 57

First Aid: 31

Influence: 48

Insight: 41

Language (Common): 69

Language (Elvish): 69

Locale: 40

Perception: 46

Ride: 22

Sing: 20

Stealth: 51

Swim: 22

Unarmed: 25

Willpower: 32

PROFESSIONAL SKILLS

Commerce: 39

Courtesy: 39

Lockpicking: 42

Mechanisms: 41

Sleight: 55

Survival: 29

PASSIONS

Loyalty to the Earth Mother: 51

Neutral (independent, respectful of nature): 42

GEAR (18 ENC)

backpack, dagger (1d4+1, bleed, impale), falchion (1d6+2, bleed), flint and tinder, hand crossbow (1d4, impale), lockpick, rations (14), rope, set of undecorated clothes (2), studded leather armor, thieves tools, waterskin, 20 silver