STALKER7

Had the wonderful opportunity a couple weeks back to run a simple one-shot for a group of kids. The Haunting of Ashwood Cemetery saw a party of seven investigating unnatural forces terrorizing the countryside. Easy set up with a narrative section to establish the landscape, provide clues and a sufficiently mysterious backstory that would all inevitably point to a (spoiler alert) large cemetery outside town.

What New Devilry is This?

Several weeks prior, locals began to notice unnerving sights and sounds at the old cemetery east of town. A heavy gloom in the air. A strange mist blanketing the ground even on sunny days. And then at night, dozens of spectral figures, armed and armored, wailing and groaning, menacing any who visited or passed by. Alarmed, the mayor of Ashwood Village contacted our heroes to determine the cause and put an end to it.

First We Talk. Then We Fight

Simple format: Provide the party with the problem, a map of the village, and a lead or two to point them in the right direction. Each of the marked locations featured NPCs with hints, lore, plot points, and narrative puzzle pieces. After an hour of round table RPG-lite interactions, the party had enough information to assemble a picture of a down-on-his-luck gambler who tried to pay off his note by robbing graves for quick coin.

Bad idea in general. Worse when you smash-n-grab an important magical artifact from a noble’s crypt.

The guilt-ridden gambler was finally located at the old Windmill, clutching a large, ornate pendant, trembling in a corner and tormented by visions of angry ghosts. He folded like wet paper when confronted, handed over the artifact and begged the party to return it to the pedestal in the large crypt in Ashwood Cemetery.

Night is Falling and We’re Going Where?

To find a large crypt. In a cemetery. That’s haunted.

Remote Cemetery? Check.

Moonless Night? Check.

Strange mist? Check.

Angry phantoms? Check.

We’re in the right place.

The gate opened with a shriek of rusty metal and the party spread out in the Outer Grounds. They were immediately attacked by a patrol of ghostly warriors.

Ghosts are tough to hit and damage. Chill of the Grave slowed some of the heroes down but the party’s superior numbers helped here and they dispatched the first wave of threats.

They collected themselves, wiped the ectoplasm from their weapons, and pressed toward the crypt in the Inner Grounds where the nobles were interred. (A gated community, even in death)

The ghost of old Duke Ashwood appeared and ordered his retainers to charge the intruders. Serious combat ensued.

The Rogue, Paladin, Berserker, Barbarian, and Wizard squared off against the ghostly elites. The Mystic and the Ranger opted for a flanking maneuver.

Much tougher battle this time around. The line fighters took some serious hits before finally taking the elite ghosts down.

Duke Ashwood beat a hasty retreat back toward the family crypt when the last of his retinue fell. The injured fighters pressed him, wanting to end this once and for all. With an outraged howl, the Duke summoned his last wave of warriors, who rose up from the mist-shrouded soil behind our heroes.

Fortunately, the Mystic and the Ranger managed to evade this new danger and slipped into the Inner Grounds while all but one of the fighters turned to face their new adversaries.

An Irate Stunty with a Pair of Hammers
With the sounds of arcane combat ringing between the gravestones, the Ranger harassed the pale Duke while the Dwarf Berserker pressed his attack – despite serious injury.

The cold night air thrummed with magic, echoed with war cries and the clash of steel. Fierce combat broke out at the graves and on the steps of the Ashwood Family Crypt.

“Only the worthy may enter,” hissed the undying Duke, his great sword slicing with terrible accuracy. Bleeding badly, the Dwarf stood firm.

His comrade, the Mystic clambered up the side of the rise to assist. Torn between targets, the Elf Ranger chose to help his friends in the Outer Courtyard and sniped away at the ghastly ambushers.

Once again courage and perseverance carried the fight. The ambushers fell, the Duke was forced back, bit by bit, to the door of the Ashwood Crypt.

When the rest of the party approached, bloodied but unbroken, he fled underground and left the way open to the crypt.

Turned out the artifact snatched by the grave robber was an ancient arcane seal that focused and contained the energy of a lattice of magical ley lines, all of which converged at that same cemetery. Its removal had disrupted powerful energies and disturbed numerous realms, mortal and otherwise.

Once the pendant was replaced on the pedestal, the air in the cemetery began to clear, the unnatural chill dissipated, and the heavy mist sank into the dark soil. No further sign of phantoms, either.

Who knows what else might have awakened when the seal was broken? Only time will tell. But for now, Ashwood and the surrounding countryside is safe.

***

A good couple hours, all in all. Toy soldiers fought on the table, dice were rolled, lots of snacks and soda consumed. Kids had a good time. And so did the dad. A victory.

That’s all for now. Thanks for stopping by.

Coming soon: Scrapjacks. Salvage and Survival in the Big Empty
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