Notes from the Proprietor: The Wednesday night Pathfinder game has come to a glorious end leaving the group without a current game. A sequel was planned, but the GM has been clobbered by Real Life™. Fortunately Caitlin has stepped up to run her own game, and this is her [1] introduction to the Crapsack World that it will be set in. There may be snarky footnotes added.

It was a nice world once

The world that was is gone, burned to ash in a storm of Hell Fire. The gods fight their own battles, they can spare no strength for mortal lands. Angels have become rare legends, signs of a strength that is long gone [2].

The trinity of holy cities holds, but they are alone. Mortal and immortal kingdoms alike fell to the Legion of Hell. Long standing feuds were forgotten as all fought for life together. Dwarfs and Drow, and Elves and Orcs. Standing side by side, dying side by side [3].

This is the world you were born into. The elders tell of a time where mortals ruled this world for themselves where survival was taken for granted and great kingdoms rose and fell, and gold and gems were the goal of many. Each lived, thought and died only for themselves.

This you cannot comprehend, all now relies on the group, and to adventure alone out into the darkness is suicide. For beyond the border lands is the dominion of the Prince of Darkness and he suffers no trespassers [4].

Hope isn’t QUITE dead yet.

Yet there remains a tiny flickering light in this darkness. The three holy cities that still hold. Karinith, once the great city of the elves, now the most militarised of the three. Where those brave enough to stand against the darkness train and marshal their strength. Rix, the great Undercity hidden from sight from most – where both elderly and young are kept as safe as they can be in this world. Sartah the city located between [5], that holds most of the world’s population, and this is where what little trade is done happens. They stand inside a great ring of mountains, once known simply as the Ring Mountains they are now known as the Ring of Fire and stand as a physical line between mortal realm and Hell plains.

These mountains are the border lands where the strong and brave struggle to farm enough to supply the holy three. These are where the battles are fought and where the foolish seeking glory come to die.

This is your home, the fertile land of the mountains, once long extinct volcanoes now being slowly brought back to life by Asmodueus, the Ring of Fire earning its name. Perhaps you are from one of the farms, or a soldier sent by the holy council to defend it. No matter how you got here, this place now holds your heart and you must defend it.

Now THIS sounds like a job for intrepid adventurers

The Holy Council hears rumours, scouts and rangers report odd sightings, The Legion is preparing and that is never good news.  You have been summoned to Sirith a small walled town in the mountains where the area’s farmers live, for it is much too dangerous for them to live on their land.

The council there is elected from the local folk and that council has called on you, farms are being pillaged and if the cities are to eat, it must be stopped [6].

[1] Slightly edited for spelling and grammar, plus I added the headings, but otherwise unchanged.

[2] SFTP: I was SO tempted to play an Aasimar again just for the resulting popularity, but I went with something else. More on that another time.

[3] SFTP: To quote Samuel Johnson “Depend upon it, Sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully.”

[4] SFTP: Yet. He suffers no trespassers YET. If the PCs reach 20th level…

[5] SFTP: I think the relevant trope, albeit justified, here is Planet of Hats.

[6] SFTP: I spy with my little eye a plot hook. I think I shall bite it.