General Background Information

[Merctime]

TL;DR: This is a Basic (Moldvay/Cook/Marsh) or Labrynth Lord game, intended for brand new first level characters. It will be run using a module, and is intended to primarily be a standard dungeon crawl with a few wilderness encounters and some opportunity to role-play. This won't be a 'killer dungeon' in tone, but player death may occur. In this event, it should take little time to create a brand new character and get back into the fray or simply promote a henchman to full Player Character status.

BACKGROUND INFO:
The backdrop of this game is the 'Known World', more specifically the 'Grand Duchy of Karameikos', as seen in such classics as the Marsh/Cook Expert Dungeons and Dragons book and it's accompanying module, 'X1: The Isle of Dread'. As the scope of this game will cover only very small portion of this iconic world, a general overview of the locale in play will be more than sufficient for a refreshing look at an old friend, or possibly a brand new introduction into one of the great worlds of roleplaying (of which I am no expert!). Spun into this overview is the initial 'hook' to entice the beginnings of adventure here. Players more familiar than myself with Greyhawk and/or Mystara will soon realize that this information is my own interpretation of these worlds for the purposes of this game.

The main focus of action will occur in and around the small town of 'Luln', itself un-walled and rather lawless. The town is primarily populated by former refugees of the nearby oppressive 'Black Eagle Barony', and a smattering of non-humans who have decided to leave the wilds and settle here. Luln's residents eek out a hard-earned (...but FREE!) living in the hilly, lightly-forested frontier territory as foresters, lumberjacks, and shepherds; with individual families practicing what subsistence farming they can. There are even a few real farmsteads that fill what little land in these hills are flat and arable enough to support them.

Luln does enjoy being along a well-traveled trade route between the aforementioned Barony to the east and, much farther to the south, the capitol of the (far more lawfully-aligned) Grand Karameikos Duchy, 'Specularum'. Thus, merchant caravans pass through relatively frequently, and at these times Luln comes alive with new commerce and a festival of markets, as the merchants and their companies enjoy a respite from the arduous trip into the harsh wilds.

This activity, and a steady stream of adventurers using the small town also as a respite from their forays into the uncharted wilds in search of fame and glory, ensure that the people of Luln can in fact maintain a basically constant secondary source of income to buttress their normal economy. Even if it does come in exaggerated spurts after periods of toil and want.

Luln as a place is on the small side when considered against other townships, typically comprising 500 citizens or thereabouts. Many passers-through consider it a large village for this reason, although the proud folk of Luln insist it is in fact a township. Considering their history and the trials they went through to escape the Black Eagle Barony, they may well deserve the right to make that claim if even it is only to make them feel better about themselves. They boast a chapel, and a few of the more general facilities commonly found in many towns and villages; Smithies, Cartwrights, Inns, and Taverns, Carpenters. Luln is pretty close to self-sufficient, especially due to the extra support when a caravan passes through.

However, during trade season, the actual population is double normal or more due to transitory or adventurous immigrant groups settling for long periods while they resupply and revel for extended periods to shake the dust from boots and throat. Festivals and markets abound during these times, with outlying farmers and shepherds bringing in their stock as well for the opportunity to trade. Luln seems to bulge at it's sides during these times, indeed.

All in all, growing up in or around the town of Luln has been a good life, many friends won and good times had; The hard work of a commoner notwithstanding. But, as the dawn of adulthood looms just over the hill, young hearts are filled with a longing for more than the cartwrights lathe, more than the smithie's hammer, more than trade festivals. It is a calling of adventure, to lure the young heart away from hearth and home. Away from things familiar, enticing with the dreams of the fantastic. Inevitably, the call of a life filled with excitement indeed booms far louder than the soft lulling of a life of safety and common doings.

Indeed, this call for adventure is sometimes not brought with the cheery voice of invitation, but the loud yell of necessity: it is this voice that calls you now, oh young adventurer, just beginning on your trail to glory and fame... For the forces of darkness have found a soft spot, and struck deeply. Closely.

Of late, roving bands of goblins have haunted the hillsides and tree-lines, the sounds of their drums echoing in the night, the wisps of smoke of their signal fires dancing in a language no good creature can understand. They speak of villainy most foul... Of dire portents for the good folk of Luln.

And they do more than speak. Lightning raids in the shadows of night have taken toll on outlying farmsteads and hamlets. Goods and livestock stolen, homes lit afire, people's lives taken in a rash of hate and violence. And perhaps even worse, fevered rumors spun from frightened survivors of these raids claim that this enemy strikes from the fastness of the old Koriszegy Keep. Itself, once a baronial stronghold that held this land in tyranny and for long years, now fallen to ruin in deep in the thickness of the forest. It's foul rulers dead and gone.

Your friends. Family. Taken. Taken, captured, whisked away to who knows what foul purpose, to who knows what foul haunt... For the Keep has been abandoned for years... Hasn't it?

Yes, friends, the call to adventure does not beckon... Verily, it shouts in anger, shouts loudly in the voice of lost friends and family screaming for vengeance, screaming for rescue from the grips of evil.

Will you answer the call, O' young of heart, O' stout of limb and courage? Will you answer the call, and venture to the the very heart of the enemy and enter: The Haunted Keep?