Your bog standard podunk fantasy
barony is menaced by monsters. The goblins are stealing the chickens, the
werewolves are eyeing the chicks, you can’t go visit Uncle Rufus in the
graveyard over the hill without him repaying the visit, orcs are plundering the
merchant caravans, and there are rumours of a doom of wyverns nesting in the
Raewynskill (the big dark forest to the north, a ways away). Heroes are needed
to save the day! Unfortunately, the heroes are all busy saving the day for more
important people, or they are just doing their stuff somewhere else. What you get
instead are mercenary monster hunters. So the villagers/townsfolk grit their
teeth, pool their money, and establish a common fund to finance monster
hunting. Good luck, the campaign is on.
This is a low level campaign
framework inspired by a
discussion on LFG.HU (link in Hungarian), David Pignedoli’s Black Dogs fanzine (also about a monster
hunting company, but more gritty and mediaeval), the DCC funnel, my old domain
management campaigns, and of course the wilderness clearing concepts from
various versions of D&D. It is basically low-level D&D where you grow a
character pool instead of one or two main PCs. Here is how it works.
The GM creates a small wilderness
sandbox, and seeds it very liberally with monsters and small adventure
sites. Go over the top with low-level monsters, they should be lurking behind
every tree. You could use any generic fantasy setting to run the campaign.
Perhaps it even needs to be utterly generic, you just need a home base
village (or small town), and a bunch of interesting terrain and landmarks
around it. Something like 4e’s Nentir
Vale would do – why not? (Or you can use The Stoneheart
Valley, the classic Necromancer Games wilderness romp. Or you can easily make your own.) Then, monster
lairs – the kind of not terribly ambitious mini-dungeons you can find on the
net by the dozens, or just make up on your own. Be generous. Keep it deadly for
low-level groups.
The Nentir Vale |
The big limitation is on the
character side. This is a low-scale campaign. Not even E6-style. You will each
be playing low-level fighters rolled with the 3d6 in order method, or more like
a growing roster of them. Every player starts with one 1st level guy
(or gal – the villagers don’t really care) down on his luck, and these guys can
band together to go on expeditions to claim bounties posted on the tavern wall,
or announced by the town crier. Your first character – and replacements – are free.
You must hire the rest out of the gp budget you raise by killing monsters, and
you must also pay to train up your guys to higher levels. It is a bit like a
pyramid scheme for adventurers. Adventures take place on a weekly basis, the
rest being spent carousing, wooing lasses, making a fool of yourself and
getting into local trouble.
For example: Claude, Jehan and
Karl go on an expedition against the orcs. They plunder a small tower which is
an advance orc outpost, but they are beset by giant spiders in the cellar, and
Karl goes down, stone cold dead. However, the other two survive, and now they
have enough money to pay for a month’s upkeep and hire a few more first-level
guys to go out with. Next week, Player A keeps Claude, and hires Sarah and
Fred. Player B makes Jehan stay at home (he has good stats, and he’d rather not
lose them) while he hires Lefty, Hank and Little Tim. Player C is stuck with a
new entry-level guy he names Bullfrog Bill. They head out for the orcish keep.
Finally, a use for all those maps |
Remember, it is the bounties that
matter. If you just kill something randomly, the villagers may or may not care
(you could give it a 1:6 probability of a halved “pity fee”). Everyone is
interested in The Orc Problem, and The Giant Rats Down the Cellar (you thought
you would be rid of them by now? Think again!), while the Raewynskill wyverns and
Sir Otto’s Undead Keep are probably distant concerns, for now (as long as the
wyverns only carry off the odd cow, and not the mayor’s niece).
You are not running real
adventurers, more like a growing band of disposable miscreants. Beyond the
funds for training, you need to keep up a number of troops to support
higher-level characters. You first have to raise a stable of ten mercenaries before
you can promote one to second level status, and at least 50 to raise an elite
leader (4th level, this could be a party-based limit). Perhaps you
can only have one of those guys. Perhaps special classes (in this case, non-fighters)
are also available, but proportionally more expensive. You need twice as much
for a ranger or a thief, and three times as much for a cleric (magic-users are
all NPCs in this campaign… although you could persuade one to join your team on
a special errand). You need to keep the mercenary ecosystem going or your guys
will just pack up and look for trouble elsewhere in the kingdom, or marry the
innkeeper’s daughter and settle down.
Another fine map by Mike Schley |
Gradually, you work your way up
to try larger targets with a whole bunch of disposable mercenaries led by your
precious few 2nd and 3rd level guys (who are almost
heroes by now). There can be all kinds of complications: a bunch of do-gooders
show up to ruin your business by killing monsters for free. A sinister merchant
offers to rent some monsters which are trained to run away for you and let you
triumph easily… for a small price. There is a fair and you can use those
jousting rules from Chainmail. Some of the monsters finally have enough and
band together to protect themselves from The Mercenary Problem. The local
landlord decides that what the villagers do with their money is their business,
but treasures found in his lands should be subject to proper taxation. And so on.
You could actually also use this structure
to play out a peasant uprising, except with the bourgeoisie corrupt
landlords and evil barons instead of the monsters, Robin Hood and company
style.