The Nentir Vale is a campaign setting provided to new players of Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition. It’s present in the Red Box and most of the starting materials. For a party almost all completely new to D&D and a DM re-familiarizing himself with the latest edition, it’s a great place to start a campaign. This will be an ongoing recollection of what happens to the party as they make their way through the Nentir Vale. Enjoy.
I seem to have misplaced the quotes I scribbled down from our last session. Which means this recap will likely be somewhat dull. – DM
They called it Kobold Hall, or Kobold Keep. Some of the more disgruntled denizens of Fallcrest called it Kobold Hole. It was a known nexus of activity for the reptilian raiders, but no individual or group had stepped forward to deal with the threat. Until now.
The band of sellswords from Fallcrest made their way into the old ruin. At the base of what was once a guard tower, they found a trapdoor with rusty hinges. Tugging on the ring revealed stairs leading underground. At the base of the long stair was a dank room dominated by a pit of sludge and patrolled by kobolds. The guards bore spears and slings, while Andrasian hefted his Lifedrinker Battleaxe, Lyria drew her daggers, Melanie began casting spells and Krillorien hewed into the kobolds with longsword and holy words.
Beyond the sludge pit was an ancient tomb converted into a shrine for the kobolds’ twisted rituals. Krillorien bristled at the sight of such graven imagery as the party moved into the room. However, more than reptilians occupied it. The suits of armor situated in alcoves along the walls spat darts on anyone large enough to trigger the connected pressure plates. Lyria, being small and light, breezed over the plates on her way to deliver a series of stabbings to her foes. After the kobolds had fallen, they found the shrine in the corner was to Tiamat, the dire dragon goddess of greed and envy.
The next tomb had been converted into a kobold playground. A large stone, covered in sludge, hung from the ceiling on the end of a long rope. Small animal skulls were arranged on the coffins in the room. The object of the game, it seemed, was to smash the skulls on the coffin – or those of any intruders. Avoiding the stone as it swung through the room was problematic for most of the party, as Lyria’s size again gave her an advantage. However, Andrasian and Krillorien immediately took it upon themselves to spoil the game by severing the rope. Melanie’s spells took care of the players as they made for the doors at the far end of the room. Lyria ran up and across a wall to reach one of the platforms from which the players had cast their ball, only to find a fearsome guard drake waiting for her. The fight that followed was pitched, but in the end the party survived.
Awaiting in the adjoining chamber was a wyrmpriest of Tiamat and his cohort. As the sellswords rushed into the room, a giant boulder crashed out of the side of the room and began rolling towards them. A slightly depressed portion of the floor by an inner chamber kept the boulder rolling around, making positioning difficult. The wyrmpriest was a bit too eager to exercise his ability to breathe ice, and Melanie proved herself a superior spellcaster. For her effort, she found a staff of the war mage on the kobold’s corpse. But the question as to why the kobold’s ability involved cold breath was a somewhat disconcerting one…
You’ve heard the turn of phrase before. “There’s no need to reinvent the wheel.” Basically it’s an argument that doesn’t necessarily invalidate innovation, but suggests that working within established constraints means less work and a lower investment of time and resources. At the same time, only going with what’s known leads to stagnation. If people doesn’t innovate, nothing grows or changes. Yes, people like what’s familiar and are uncertain of new things. It’s why this year’s Madden is going to outsell a game coming from the independent market. It’s why fans are eagerly awaiting the next novel in the Song of Ice and Fire series and overlook brand new titles in the fantasy genre. This isn’t a universal truth to be sure, as there will always be people willing to try something new, but it’s true enough to be noteworthy and, in my opinion, worth examination.
When you get right down to it, on a mechanical level, there’s little difference between Gears of War and Mass Effect, especially the second title. They’re both cover-based shooters using a third-person perspective. However, they’re as different as night and day. The former’s focus on multiplayer, brutality and grim protagonists in interchangeable suits of armor is worlds apart from the latter’s storytelling, character design and decision making. In other words, they’re both wheels, but one’s a big thick tire on a monster truck while the other’s a Pirelli on a Bugatti Veyron. BioWare didn’t reinvent the wheel to make the experience of playing Mass Effect 2 distinctive from that of playing Gears of War 2, they just built that wheel differently.
Another good example? The aforementioned Song of Ice and Fire. It’s a fantasy novel series, so it’ll sit in the same section as Lord of the Rings. But George RR Martin isn’t all about exotic races, magical powers and a clearly-defined evil villain. Instead, his focus is on sweeping political landscapes, lands and armies rooted very much in our history and lots (and boy, do I mean lots) of interesting, well-rounded characters. GRRM doesn’t reinvent the wheel to write his books or get his point across. Instead, he draws from both the universes of fantasy with which we’re already familiar, and also from the legends and accounts we either know from studying history or recognize as familiar due to our own experiences. It makes a story with an expansive scope feel deeply personal.
It’s entirely possible that in our own creative process, we head down a particular path. We want to try something new. We want to go places that haven’t been explored, approach an obstacle in a radical way. As we proceed down the path, more ideas occur to us. It’s tempting to pull those ideas into the work at hand, just to see if it works. And then, when it comes time to look over where we are and how we came to be there, the path behind us is at least a bit messy, if not damn near incoherent. We’ve wandered a bit too far. We’ve tried to reinvent the wheel.
This doesn’t mean the mess is without merit, however. A square wheel, after all, can be chiseled into a round one if you’re willing to clean up the debris when you’re done.
The Nentir Vale is a campaign setting provided to new players of Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition. It’s present in the Red Box and most of the starting materials. For a party almost all completely new to D&D and a DM re-familiarizing himself with the latest edition, it’s a great place to start a campaign. This will be an ongoing recollection of what happens to the party as they make their way through the Nentir Vale. Enjoy.
When Andrasian, Melanie and Lyria finally made it to Fallcrest, the wagon master greeted Sergeant Murgeddin heartily. After a brief conversation, the dwarven sergeant instructed the party to take their item to Marla of the Great Church, an institution dedicated to the worship of Pelor. Given the nature of the box’s contents, the trio agreed that it was best to put it in someone else’s hands as quickly as possible, and a holy priestess of the sun god seemed like as good a choice as any.
They made their way through Fallcrest’s winding streets to Moonstone Keep and found quite a few people waiting to see Lord Warden Faren Markelhay, from peasants to local lords. They politely waited in the queue… for about two minutes. They then moved to the front and asked the officious bureaucrat about the wait and attempted to convey the importance of their mission. The bureaucrat refused to grant them entry, unwilling to even consider it unless he knew what was in the box. After one blow-off after another, Andrasian finally showed the bureaucrat the ghastly contents. Turning white as a sheet and uttering nervous prayers, the bureaucrat let them pass and promptly found the nearest latrine.
Within the keep’s throne room, Markelhay looked over maps, scrolls and laws. The thone’s dias was unoccupied, the Lord Warden occupying a simple chair behind his cluttered desk. To one side, Marla spoke with another priest of Pelor, a young eladrin who had come to the Lord Warden to validate the deed for his manor. It was a stout, dwarven building a few miles south of Fallcrest which the cleric’s father had won in a game of Three-Dragon Ante with a dwarven companion. Dwarves kept the grounds and halls clean and safe, and after spending the night there, the cleric had come to ensure no other lord or well-to-do businessman could claim it. He introduced himself to the trio as Krillorien.
“In the words of Sookie Stackhouse, ‘I’m a fucking fairy!'” – Ben, introducing himself to the group.
When Marla was presented with the box, she thanked the trio and conveyed some of her concerns, which were not unrelated. Rumors of a death cult had compelled her to look into the whereabouts of a demented priest calling himself Kalarel. Unholy rituals within the land of the Nentir Vale unnerved the priestess, and she had discussed it with Krillorien prior to their arrival. The group agreed to investigate, and Krillorien volunteered to join them.
Before departing, the group decided to look around Fallcrest for new equipment and armor. The Halfmoon Trading House and Sandercot Provisions yielded nothing of note save some energetic haggling, but Naerumar’s Imports was another story. Operated by the gentlemanly tiefling Orest Naerumar, he assured the incoming patrons that magic was all around them.
“I don’t know about this guy. That line sounds pretty gay.” – Danielle
Lyria’s attention was caught by a nondescript bag hanging in the corner. Orest told her it could hold far more than it seemed, and he was willing to trade her a favor for it. An associate of his in Winterhaven by the name of Valthrun the Prescient was corresponding with him on the subject of alchemy, and the last letter indicated the sage had broken one too many of his flasks. Orest asked Lyria if she would kindly deliver a masterwork alchemy set to Valthrun, and in exchange she could keep the bag of holding. The halfling agreed.
Meanwhile, Andrasian looked into new equipment at the smithy. Jovial Teldorthan Ironhews was happy to see a warrior come into his shop and asked if the lad had ever used a hammer. Andrasian showed the smith his axe and inquired about fresh armor. Teldorthan related that he had come into some dragon hide he intended to craft into a suit of scale, but kobold raiders had made off with the prize. He’d last heard they were using a ruined manor called Kobold Hall as their hideout. Andrasian told the smith he’d recover the hide if the smith would, in turn, craft armor for him. Ironhews was delighted to accept.
Dressing Melanie was a more straightforward task. On recommendation from Orest, she and Lyria went to House Azaer, Fallcrest’s premier importer and finest clothier. Upon seeing the two and being told that Melanie was in need of clothing, tiefling and landlady Amara Azaer called for her tailor, Rodney Grant, who appeared from behind counter, gasped at the sight of Melanie’s near-nakedness, took her by the hand and pulled her into his workshop for an immediate fitting.
Equipped and fully stocked, the party set out for Winterhaven. On the way, however, they were ambushed by several kobolds. Krillorien proved himself immediately, his lances of light paring down the enemy numbers.
“Sparkles!” – Ben’s method of invoking Lance of Faith.
They made short work of the lizardlings. Among the ruined bodies they discovered a half-soaked map with directions marked and notes made in Draconic. Adjusting her glasses, Lyria made out the scrawls and revealed the map showed the way to Kobold Hall. Considering how close they were and with the sun nearing its apex, the party decided to head for the kobold hideout with all due speed…
This review contains spoilers. Fairly be ye warned.
This is a review that’s admittedly been a very long time coming. My experience with Dragon Age: Origins, from my initial enthusiasm to my gripes about bugs and length, is prettywelldocumented. I picked up the expansion, Awakening in lieu of playing through the base game again. Having finally made the time to finish it, long after my wife played, beat and reviewed it herself, I was surprised with how much the expansion had in common with the original game, for better and for worse.
Having saved Ferelden from the Blight, the Grey Wardens now under your command are given the arl of Amaranthine, a land in the northern reaches of the kingdom that formerly belonged to one of your biggest and most irritating enemies. It is your charge to both protect the people of the land and rebuild Vigil’s Keep and the order of Grey Wardens it now houses. This is easier said and done for a variety of reasons. The nobles of Amaranthine are wary of you, the Keep is in shoddy shape and the darkspawn, who usually all but disappear following a Blight, continue to assault the countryside and, despite the loss of the archdemon, appear shockingly organized. It’s down to you to lead the charge against them, and try not to lose your new land in the process.
Stuff I Didn’t Like
I wore this face of Sigrun’s a lot.
Okay, I know that a patch came out back in July for some of this stuff, but damn are some of the initial bugs in Awakening annoying. Approval ratings on companions were messed up pretty badly, some quests were impossible to complete and others you couldn’t pick up at all. Some of the character posing was a bit off as well. Nothing catapults you out of the gameplay experience like your character wearing a dumb expression or standing in a ridiculous pose while something of great dramatic import is happening.
Another major problem I have with Awakening is a minor one I had with Mass Effect 2. There are fewer opportunities to chat with and get to know your party members. While Anders is Alistaire 2.0 (less shy, magely, every bit as snarky) and Velanna is Morrigan 1.1 (defrosting ice queen but now with pointy ears!), the additions of Nathaniel and Sigrun are quite welcome and I would have liked to talk with them more. And why are there so few opportunities to commiserate with our old friend Oghren over some brews? It’s like walking up to Garrus to ask him how he feels about Tali being back and all he says is something about calibrating the guns on the Normandy, only worse because we get even less dialog with the new characters in Awakening.
Don’t even get me started on how often this game crashed in the middle of a boss fight. I don’t know if it’s this computer or the unpatched game, but it’s like Crash Man got bored working for Dr. Wily and decided to start screwing with Amaranthine instead.
Finally, the game is frustratingly rigid in its handling of its ending. You are given the choice between saving the city of Amaranthine or staying to defend Vigil’s Keep. If you’re like me and got every upgrade for the Keep you could, and left it to save the city hoping to ride back to the Keep in your very own Big Damn Heroes moment, you’re in for a massive disappointment. Also, choose your ending party well, because you’re stuck with them for the rest of the game. Finally, the choice between destroying both the Architect and the Mother and listening to the Architect’s persuasive argument as to why he can and should help you shouldn’t be so black and white. Either you listen to him and give him a chance to free the darkspawn or he’s a monster and you kill him. Where’s the option to enlist his help but then chain him up in the Keep’s dungeon under guard while he does his work to ensure he keeps his word? All in all, Awakening feels a lot less open-ended than its core game.
Stuff I Liked
“Let me live and work to free the darkspawn, and there will be cake.”
On the subject of the Architect, I will admit he’s probably my favorite kind of villain. He’s intelligent, well-spoken, propelled by complex motivations and willing to do just about anything to accomplish his goals that doesn’t compromise them, even allying with the heroes if necessary. Being that my character was an intellectual mage despite wearing plate and swinging a magical sword (Arcane Warriors rock), I listened to what he had to say and saw things from his point of view. Again, it would have been nice to not be tied down to only the two options in this part of the ending, but I appreciate the distinction existed at all. It would have been easy to make him less dimensional and water the motivations of the heroes down to “kill everyone” right from the off.
The new spells, specializations and equipment in the expansion are all pretty well-done. I liked that I could spend skill points to get some increases to hit points and stamina/mana instead of putting more points in tracking or something equally useless. It was difficult for me not to notice that mages were still rather over-powered in comparison to the other classes, and realizing that the final boss fight was a rehash of one from Origins, once I had the positioning down it was a matter of waiting for the big area of effect spells to recharge after casting them one on top of the other. Still, it added to the epic feeling of the game, even if it was felt a bit “more of the same.”
Stuff I Loved
Yeah. “Fucking epic” indeed.
The Queen of the Blackmarsh, on the other hand, was a breath of fresh air. Or lightning. Not only was her introduction pretty damn epic, the fight itself felt like it belonged in an instance in World of Warcraft. It required changing tactics mid-fight, coordinating party position and being fully aware of what was going on. Provided you didn’t get killed by Crash Man, the process of trial and error was that equal part of frustrating and exhilarating that I’d missed for most of Dragon Age.
What dialog we do get from the new characters is pretty well-written. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that one of the things I love about most of BioWare’s work is the character interactions they build into their games, and Awakening is no exception. In addition to this, the actual story of Awakening is well-told for being somewhat unnecessary in the wake of the core game. It conveys a lot of that medieval fantasy feel and continues the BioWare tradition of hard decisions that need to be made. While there’s surprisingly less coherence between this expansion and Dragon Age: Origins than there is between the two Mass Effect games, it’s still more time spent in a well-realized and familiar setting. In addition to decent writing and memorable characters, BioWare seems very good at world-building. And this one didn’t require the applied phlebotinum of Element Zero, unless you count lyrium.
Bottom Line: The biggest thing that kept me from finishing this expansion sooner than I did were the problems I had with its bugs, crashes, companions, structure and superfluousness. Unlike Mass Effect 2, which recaptures and deepens the experience of being in that particular world, Dragon Age: Origins: Awakening: Revenge of the Colon is an expansion in every sense of the world. Everything from the core game is extended, from the stuff you liked (companions, classes, epic scope) to the stuff you hated (bugs, length, stupid story points). If you’re a fan of the core game and are curious to see what the characters are like with a few extra levels or what came after the fall of the archdemon, pick this up. Otherwise, I think you’re better suited waiting for Dragon Age 2.
One of the most wonderful and terrifying things about becoming a novelist is there’s no one “right way” to do it. It’s wonderful because it means anybody with writing talent (and some without) can do it, and it’s terrifying because it can be daunting to choose how to begin, where to go and what to do once you get there. Yahtzee Croshaw started out writing reviews of movies and games, short stories and freeware adventure games, and Mogworld is his first novel. After finishing it, I found myself hoping that it won’t be his last. With Sir Terry Pratchett ill and Douglas Adams dead for almost a decade, someone had to step up and fill the shoes of the sarcastic British genre novelist.
Jim is an apprentice wizard, studying arcane magic and thankful to be away from his fathers’ disgusting farm when his school is attacked by the neighboring war college. He’s killed, only to wake up sixty years later as a zombie under the command of a necromancer. It’s soon apparent that his world has become afflicted by some odd global condition that makes death a temporary inconvenience, but while some people wake up in a nearby church swathed in white robes when killed, Jim remains zombified. The prevailing sentiment among those still capable of coherent thought is that this condition needs to be fixed. Jim, however, could care less. Jim just wants to die permanently. Unfortunately, being an NPC in Mogworld, a massively multiplayer online game boasting revolutionary AI, this is easier said than done.
Yahtzee’s writing shows evidence of subscription to two of the biggest rules for good writing: “show don’t tell” and “less is more.” Tackling the first, Yahtzee is careful to never just have his characters spout their feelings verbatim. They are shown through the timbre of the conversation, their expressions and actions, the decisions they make and so on. Likewise, Yahtzee avoids the tendency of many, many modern comics with his “less is more” mentality, using running gags sparingly and instead using circumstance, intelligence and sarcasm to maintain a high level of humor throughout the book. And make no mistake, this book is very, very funny.
Of course, this is Yahtzee we’re talking about, so folks were probably expecting the humor. The existential angst, philosophical ramifications and metaphysical discussions, on the other hand, might catch some readers off-guard. The humor, in point of fact, begins to feel like something of a gateway drug. It’s the hook that pulls you into the story so Yahtzee can drive home what he’s really on about. The narrative goes some very dark places. It’s well done and presented in a very interesting way, so it wasn’t that jarring for me, but readers expecting the rapid-fire dirty jokes of Zero Punctuation may be filled with confusion.
If Mogworld has a flaw, it’s the decision Yahtzee made to write the novel in the first person. While it does draw in the reader and underscores the sort of immersion Yahtzee is always discussing in his reviews, there are a few moments where it feels less like Jim is his own character and more a mouthpiece for Yahtzee’s personal opinions and philosophies. Considering how much of Yahtzee’s voice and humor permeates the novel, Jim comes dangerously close to becoming an Author Avatar. Thankfully, as the novel goes on it feels more like Yahtzee is flirting with that distinction rather than being completely ignorant of it or knowingly crossing the line to speak to us directly about how silly or stupid we are to believe whatever we do that he does not. It’s gotta be hard to carry on a serious discussion on these subjects when your tongue is planted in your cheek, after all.
It’s really hard to hold a flaw this minor against the overall result when the humor is this funny, the characters this memorable and the jibes this cutting. For a novel, Mogworld is very good. As a first novel, it’s excellent, bordering on the fantastic. And for anybody out there struggling to put a novel together, it’s a challenge. Yahtzee got this written, edited and published while maintaining his web series and opening the Mana Bar. It puts the following question to other writers: “What’s your excuse?”
