2d6 Encounters in the Village of Skonmoen

Skonmoen is a small town on the eastern shore of Mairton Island, and the first foothold the Halfosians gained on the island when they invaded over a decade ago. Much of the town was destroyed by Halfosian siege engines, and little has been rebuilt since then, as the occupying Halfosians claim all available building supplies are needed for the ongoing war.

Most of the townsfolk now live in the Barracks, hastily built structures put up by the occupying forces, and are not able to return to their homes. The residents of the Barracks do much as they have always done, which is to fish and farm, and carry out their trades as best they can.

Those whose homes were destroyed but who refused to live in the Barracks created Waterbottom, a collection of old fishing and cargo vessels salvaged from local wrecks, lashed together, with two and three storey high shanties built on the decks. Waterbottom is essentially lawless, and its residents scrape by however they can, fishing, hunting in the forests around town (though the good game is in the deep forest, off limits to the townsfolk). Many residents survive on the wages of mistrust, paid by the Halfosians to spy on their neighbours, or as agents of the Mairtonians, risking death to collect information on the movements of the occupying forces. It is rumoured that agents of the deposed Baronettess of Skonmoen, who hides in the deep forest with a few dozen of her most loyal soldiers, are active in town and may be preparing for an attack on the occupiers.

2d6 Random Encounters in Waterbottom

2	2d6 sentient otters. They taunt the party in a broken but fluid dialect of common. Pelts are worth 20 gp each.
3	Gang of street urchins. Roll 1d6: on a 5 or 6 they are all 6 inches tall (see entry 11 in this table) and clamber over the party members to pick their pockets. 50% chance of success at stealing 1 item chosen at random (must be small enough to be carried by a few 6 inch tall children).
4	Two people argue outside a tavern. Roll 1d4: they are arguing about an unpaid debt one claims the other undercut them for a job one claims the other snuck into his shack and stole a precious heirloom they are simply drunk and belligerent
5	The ‘Mayor’. Not really the mayor, but a middle-aged man wearing a tarnished cuirass and carrying a short sword. The mayor questions the party, suspicious of anyone who may be a threat to his perceived authority. The locals ignore him.
6	2d6 Halfosian soldiers making an incursion into Waterbottom (Use Bandit stat block for rank and file + 1 Captain, 6 HP, 1 Armor, 14 STR, 12 DEX, 9 WIL, sword (d8)) rooting out: a purported spy gambling contraband venison from the deep forest a petty crook on the lam
7	Rebel guerrilla. Dressed like a blacksmith, but her hands are clean and uncallused. Knows a secret route into Castle Skonmoen and is trying to get a message out to the Baronettess and her band in the woods. Will approach the party, trying to determine if they could be of help.
8	Gamblers in a corridor playing dice. One is without a shirt, another wears two shirts. They are playing for shreds of Stinkweed.
9	Out-of-work milliner originally from overseas. Has a few fine hats remaining in stock ranging from 30 gp to 120 gp. Needs money but refuses to drop prices.
10	Fire! Villagers scramble to put out the flames and chaos erupts. Roll 1d6: on a 1 the cables lashing the boats together break and the boat the party is on begins to float out to sea.
11	A wizard. Frail and wizened, surviving on food given to her by the villagers. Roll 1d4. She spends her days: researching a cataclysmic spell that will rid the island of the Halfosian menace forever, but which has little to no chance of succeeding trying to locate the Heart of the Forest, a legendary artifact of great power, but which likely does not exist brewing potions of diminution for sale that no one wants, except for gangs of local kids who use them because it makes them feel weird trying to create an automatic fishing rod
12	A Sea Dragon. Roll 1d4: soars in wide circles in the distance lands on the shore and stalks toward the Halfosian camp, curious lands on the beach and cleans itself lands on the end of the line of boats, trying to figure out if there is any treasure to be had

The Village of Whitewall - 2d6 Encounters in the Crevasse

As detailed in this post, the village of Whitewall sits atop a glacier, near a large crevasse where steam from a geothermal vent allows access to the ground far below. In the pale blue light at the bottom of the crevasse some moss and lichens grow, which were, until recently, the village’s only local source of edible plant matter. Steam and toxic gases collect, and many pickers have been poisoned or cooked alive. Many others have simply been crushed by falling ice, or most commonly, fall to their deaths climbing the ice walls of the crevasse. The townsfolk make days-long expeditions into the chasm to cultivate these lichens and sell them in the town above, staying in lean-tos and huts at the bottom so as to minimize dangerous treks to and from the surface.

There are newly-discovered copper deposits in a cave below ground, and a small mining operation has sprung up in recent years. A larger shanty town has sprung up around the mine entrance as well, where once there was only the makeshift dwellings of Whitewall’s lichen pickers. Work in the mine is slow, as only the most desperate will go underground, and workers must be brought in from distant towns.

Most recently, deposits of a mysterious ore that glows a sickly orange when struck have been discovered in the mine, and news of this has started to filter out into the wider world. Strange characters are beginning to show up in the village, looking for the ore.

2d6 Encounters in the Crevasse

2	3d4 mine guards, dressed in ragged armour in various states of disrepair. They will waylay the party if they don’t offer a bribe.
3	A miner, a bloody gash on her arm. Frustrated and clearly hurt, she speaks to a few assembled miners, arguing that they are putting their lives in danger for wages that are far too low. Others stand back and look on nervously.
4	Moss pickers sit around a small fire, cooking salted reindeer meat with dried lichen in a stew pot. They offer the party some food.
5	A miner, rappelling down the ice wall, loses his grip and falls a great distance. He does not move after hitting the ground.
6	Whitewall’s sheriff stops the party. The sheriff sells passes into town for the miners. Miners caught in town without one are jailed overnight. He sets the price at whatever he likes. He also decides who he thinks is a miner, and who isn’t.
7	Two haulers, loaded with ore, scale the crevasse walls more deftly than seems possible.
8	A man lies bleeding from a wound on his head. If woken up he claims he has discovered a way to harness the energy of the thermal vents on the crevasse floor. He was experimenting with his invention when someone struck him.
9	Miners come running out of the mine, screaming, some of them bloodied. They are followed by 2d6 Fire Beetles, which move at half speed once out of the mine, unable to tolerate the cold above ground.
10	Icefall! An enormous shard separates from the crevasse wall. When it hits the ground it strikes a geothermal vent. Steam erupts, killing several lichen pickers nearby. Players must save (DEX or other appropriate save) to avoid 2d4 STR damage.
11	A stranger in strange clothes wanders through the shanty town, asking anyone who will answer about the mysterious glowing stones.
12	Poison gas! Players must save (DEX or other appropriate save) to avoid 2d4 damage and becoming deprived.

Village of Whitewall - 2d6 Town Encounters

The original inhabitants of Whitewall were nomadic herders, following migrating reindeer across the glacier that divides the tundra to the north from the boreal forests to the south. The crevasse, formed by thermal vents in the ground beneath the glacier, had been used by the nomads for centuries as a way to slaughter reindeer, herding them into the crevasse where they fell to their deaths. Some of the nomads settled on a nearby rocky outcropping, finding the warm air that rose from the crevasse a pleasant break from the endless snowy wastes, and discovering a ready, if difficult to procure food supply in the lichens growing on the crevasse floor.

The town has grown in recent years, serving as a way station for merchant caravans, and with the discovery of copper deposits down below. And while tensions between the newcomers and the older inhabitants erupt in the occasional brawl, the influx of money has led to problems of its own.

And despite the recent growth, Whitewall is still a tiny frontier settlement. The infinite wastes of the glacier are visible no matter where one stands.

2d6 Town Encounters

2	A wizard, his skin a deep blue, his robes in tatters, emerges from the wastes, screaming. He seems to understand the common tongue, but responds only in an ancient gnomish language no one understands. Can cast Astral Prison at will, and does so if anyone touches him.
3	A frost giant lumbers into town. He seems enraged and confused. Locals attempt to fend him off. A dire wolf stands on the ice some distance away, watching, a look on its face that communicates something like concern.
4	There is a sound of breaking glass and a child wearing rags for shoes, her arms full of cucumbers, comes running down the street. They’ve smashed Farrod’s greenhouse! she yells. The only source of fresh vegetables in town, Farrod charges an arm and a leg. PCs who investigate find locals and miners standing outside the greenhouse, staring at the smashed panes of glass and the extortionately priced produce inside which is rapidly freezing, unsure what to do.
5	A fight breaks out when drunken miners insult a band of herders who are in town to sell hides and reindeer meat. The miners are drunk and flailing; it looks like the fight is over before it begins, but then a miner pulls a knife.
6	A band of monks preaches the gospel of the Frozen Silence on a busy corner. A few of the townies seem genuinely interested, but most would prefer to not engage.
7	A small detachment of soldiers arrives in town, looking frostbitten and exhausted. They set up in the middle of town and inform anyone around that the town is now within the bounds of the Torian Hegemony. They are ignored, except by a growing number of local children who stand slack-jawed looking at their weapons and armour.
8	A traveling salesman drives a sled pulled by six tamed wolves. He does a brisk business in magic items and seal oil in the outports that dot the glacier. Some of his wares are cursed.
9	An urchin, holding a bucket of rusted hatchets tries to sell one to the party for a hundred gold pieces. When the party (presumably) points out that that’s far too much for a rusted hatchet, he whines: “but if I could sell just one!” He is not above throwing the hatchets at the party if they taunt him or are otherwise rude.
10	A barker insults passersby as he tries to get people into a tavern. A fight ensues when a band of miners, new in town and unfamiliar with his teasing, threaten to break his teeth.
11	A frost elf is looking for mercenaries to help steal treasure from a White Dragon’s lair he claims to have discovered in a nearby ice cave.
12	A white dragon circles high above. Some townsfolk run for cover. Others stand, transfixed, strange utterances slipping unbidden from their mouths.

Failed Anchorite - A Background for Cairn 2nd Edition

Failed Anchorite

You vowed to spend the rest of your life in silent prayer, locked in a windowless cell attached to a temple. You were even given funeral rites, taking your leave of the material world. But then the temple burned down. Priests of the church treat you with deference, perhaps because you are technically dead and there is definitely something of the otherworldly about you. Being dead, you also can’t enter into any contracts or own any land.

Starting Gear

3d6 Gold Pieces

Lantern

Oil Can (6 uses)

Sacramental Wafers (equivalent to rations, 3 uses)

Crosier (d6)

Hair shirt (1 Armor. If worn while sleeping, WIL save to clear fatigue)

Names

Orso, Simeon, Alypius, Catherine, June, Onuphrius, Rotrude, Eudokia, Hildegard, Gerold

d6	What vision haunted you in your cell?
1	The world in flames	You've seen things, and it shows in your eyes. Scare one sentient opponent, once a day. Their attacks are impaired for 1d4 rounds.
2	The gods at their leisure	You occasionally relive feverish visions of the gods indulging their passions. Regain 1d4 attribute points without healing or rest. You must leave your most valuable possession at a shrine or temple to one of your gods to restore this ability.
3	Prophetic sight	For a brief moment you saw each of the infinite pathways your life could take. Automatically succeed at a DEX save. To restore this ability, you must imbibe a concoction made from the eye of a bird of prey, prepared by a priest of your faith.
4	Yourself in a past life	Permanently gain 1 STR, DEX, WIL, or HP, determined randomly.
5	The secret name of all things	Spend one turn to remember the secret name of a living thing or object. It will comply with a spoken order, as much as it is possible for it to do so, for 2d4 turns. Afterwards, it will be one tick less hostile than it was before. Take a fatigue. Spend a night praying for your god's forgiveness for usurping their power to restore this ability, forgoing rest.
6	The music of the spheres	The melody haunts you. If you sing it, it haunts anyone else who hears it, and they must make WIL save to avoid being frozen in place, lost in a reverie for 1d4 turns. Take a fatigue, and make a WIL save to retain a memory of the melody. On a fail you forget it and lose one WIL permanently.

d6	What did you steal from the gods?
1	Ambrosia	Revive 1 PC or creature that has recently died. They permanently lose 2 WIL, forever distracted by visions of Arcadia. 1 use.
2	Fire	A small flame erupts from your finger for up to 1 turn. It does not hurt you, but feels as though it does. Can be used to light other things on fire. Lose 1 WIL until you sleep.
3	An perfect obsidian blade	D12 damage (D12+2 if enhanced), 3 uses before it shatters.
4	A small metal bearing	Indestructible and suffers no friction.
5	A crown	Any mortal wearing it and chanting the power word inscribed on the circlet is immune to all forms of damage for d12 rounds, and then is vaporized.
6	A mask	It’s stuck to your face, permanently, giving you a muted and waxy facial appearance. You are adept at looking like someone else to anyone who isn't a close confidant.