I have a group of 5/6 for the campaign. Thank you for the interest, and I will keep the post updated if I am in need of new players. I am looking for a group of 3-4 players to enjoy a homemade 5e campaign. It is expected that every player will be working together to achieve a common goal. Individual goals can be explored as the group spends time together and build a rapport with each other. There will be no exclusions based on experience, only attendance and group cohesion. My schedule is Fridays from 6pm-12pm to allow for modified play times based on the players' availability. Sessions will usually run for 3-4 hours, but can run longer if everyone is into it. There will be some content that you may Find Familiar from different sources. The base of the campaign is custom, and created by myself. There will be no custom rules, as I find that they complicate the story unnecessarily. It will be a long sweeping campaign broken up into acts, much like the chapters of a book. The sources will include the Player's Handbook and Xanathar's Guide to Everything for character creation. Characters will start at level 3, and there will be a session zero to create characters and establish roles and such. I have been DMing for many years going back to 2nd edition. Recent schedule changes have freed up Friday evenings for me, and I would like to get back into DMing. I haven't been DMing for about 2 years now, with scheduling being the downfall of my last campaign. The story and combat are the 2 biggest parts of D&D that I enjoy. My experience with voices is limited, but as I get more comfortable DMing again, I am sure I will find them. Below is the opening material I have written to give some brief history for the region, and a setting for the first act. Please read over the material and determine if a gritty and difficult campaign is something you would enjoy. The risk of character death is there, tactics will be utilized by the opposition, as it is expected from the party as well. Charging in will more than likely result in serious injury if not a TPK. Consider this when thinking of your characters and work with your fellow party members to create a wholesome and complete party. Country: Aria Region: Mirakoth Town: Llyne Infday, Prosh 23rd, 1403 Chaos takes hold as Levies and Tariffs imposed by the Duke of Aaesh restrict trade in the region. Whispers of an uprising are becoming an all too possible future, and the Autarch's forces have dwindled as the dissent builds. If the history books from school were correct, Llyne used to a major trade hub, and a bastion against the forces of Chaos. For the last few centuries it has been led by the Autarch, a fair and just woman, although rumors say otherwise. Songs now paint it as a relic of a bygone age, just a shell of it's former glory. You and the group of adventurer's around you are part of the outlier force brought in by the Autarch. The contract you accepted as caravan guards to help pay your way to Llyne paid well enough, but you were unprepared for the desperation in the region. The trip was difficult enough with the road and weather conditions, never mind the 2 ambushes you fended off. The latter of the two resulted in some more coins for your group, and some mounts. A pair of pony's, one donkey, and a draft horse. All of them equipped with pack saddles and saddlebags. The first attempt was a small group of goblins, very disorganized and unprepared. The second was a group of mercenaries, fairly well equipped, but not expecting caravan guards. You and your group dispatched most of them, and took their equipment and mounts. This resulted in some basic equipment, a few coins, and some mounts. A pair of pony's, one donkey, and a draft horse. All of them equipped with pack saddles and saddlebags. To the east, the foreboding black stone walls of the keep appear as you crest the hill. Dust plumes from every plodding step of your mounts hooves, and sweat beads on your forehead in the noon day heat. It is apparent that it has not been a favorable year for the farms leading up to the keep. Sparse fields and attenuated livestock flank the road, as thin children dressed in rags run along side your group. The black stone walls are even more imposing as you get closer, large stones, some larger than horses make up the structure. At 25 feet high and at least 5 feet thick, they are unlike anything you have ever seen. A pair of guards wearing mail and wielding short swords on their hip flank a large steel portcullis that hangs open. Black steel bars, thicker than your wrist weave a seemingly impenetrable gate. As the younger of the two guards ride up and exchange words with the lead caravan, movement from the crossbowman above the gate catches your eye. She shifts her weight from one foot to another, idly leaning against one of the parapets, a heavy crossbow at the ready. Her long blonde hair partially obscuring her shoulder, where a green patch with a white bird in the center sets her apart from the others. A breeze carries some of the fine dust across the mostly empty square as you dismount. A young woman with scraggly red hair, tied up into a ponytail, green eyes, and a smudge of red mud across her forehead takes the reins. Her patchy blue vest and brown pants flap in the wind as she places a hand on her hat to keep it in place. "I'd go for the roast chicken if I were you, the mutton stew has some bite to it." She says as she smiles, a devilish yet innocent grin erupting. "Hay is included but oats will cost you a copper more if you wish, grain cakes as well..." Her voice trails off as she ducks into the stable. Removing your travelling bag and backpack requires some patience as the dust has worked it's way into everything. Dust plumes into the air while you struggle with the straps and buckles. As you heft the pair over your shoulder, you note the lack of remaining provisions. Yet another oversight you made. The recruitment bonus seemed too good to be true, but the too few coins that clatter together in your purse suggest otherwise. On the road everything was at least twice as expensive as you'd expected them to be. The stable girl emerges moments later with a handful of small wooden tokens and begins to hand them out. "Take these to Gwyllam in the Barracks, tan tent to the west side of the square, you can't miss it. She's the blonde one at the front desk." She whistles an unfamiliar tune as she leads the mounts into the stable. The tokens are smooth to the touch and have an unusual heft. An elaborate R is branded into the tokens, the scripture appears to be Dwarven, yet has Elvish embellishments. The walk across the nearly barren square doesn't take long, and the sounds of training ring out from the other side of the tent. Just what have you gotten yourself into...
