The Wenderweald beckons...

I had to try Odinson’s “The Wenderweald Basic Rules” as soon as they were released. Find them here for free!

Character: Ta-ze

Body: Pierced / Mind: Analytical / Soul: Reverent

Ta-Ze is weathered, skin tanned, body whip-lean and strong. They have piercings all over and wear a variety of earrings, nose rings, lip rings, eyebrow rings, etc. that they change daily. Some in the village whisper the rings are charms and amulets or Witchery, and the way they are worn provide different benefits, but none dare ask.

my own attempt at a character sketch!

Profession: Physikar / Items: jar of leeches, 12 silver

The Order condemned Ta-Ze’s village after an outbreak of Hexflesh. Ta-Ze knows a cure. A witch owes them a favor. But the Order is watching. Ta-Ze keeps a Witch’s secret so long as they help and continue to stay silent.

10 Might / 15 wit / 8 spirit / HD: d6

The crash of a bookshelf. The shattering of a chair. The screams of accusations.

These were not new.

This was the third such ‘investigation’ by The Order.

Two knights ransacked the hut Ta-Ze called home. They smashed vials on the floor, torched books and scrolls, scattered ingredients and stole anything of value they could find.

A few more moments before they left.

Ta-Ze waited until they were sure the knights were gone, then quickly pulled up a loose floorboard, revealing all they had left. A jar of leeches and twelve silver. They scooped them up and placed the floorboard back.

They left the ramshackle hut, moon high in the sky. The village, little more than a scattering of a dozen or so buildings, lay quiet in the night, a few Knights carrying torches patrolling, the rest camped out around the village in white tents, campfires roaring.

Ta-Ze slipped to the building next door, the largest in the village, the only ‘inn’ of sorts. Inside, it had been turned into a makeshift infirmary, patients lying on tables and the floor, their flesh corrupted, stiff to the touch, moaning in pain and agony, a few townsfolk giving them water and seeing to their needs.

“Ta-Ze,” the innkeeper approached, a hale, middle-aged woman, her voice hushed. She gulped as she got closer, glancing down at the floor. “The condition of those infected remain the same.”

Most townsfolk didn’t like Ta-Ze, but they had healed a fair few of them. Still, Ta-Ze kept to themselves and didn’t socialize.

“To aid, I must leave the village. I need things. A sling, a hatchet, a gambeson, and a backpack.” He puts the pouch of silver into her hands. “I need them now.”

Sling: 2s, Hatchet, 2s. Gambeson, 5s. Backpack (I’ll say it cost the last of my silver, 3s.)

She nodded. “Okay, but…you know they aren’t letting anyone leave…”

Ta-Ze did not respond, but merely looked back at her until she gulped, nodded once more, and hurried off, speaking with other townsfolk.

As they waited, Ta-Ze went to each of the victims, briefly touching the hardened, crusty exterior of the Hexflesh, whispering something that nobody else heard.

After twenty minutes or so, the innkeeper brought him a pack. “Here,” she said, handing it over.

They slipped it on.

“Good luck,” she said.

Ta-Ze didn’t respond, walking out of the inn and into the night.

Slip out of the village without getting caught

d20 vs wits = 14 <= 15 → success

Taking their time, Ta-Ze moved through the encampment surrounding the village, sticking to the shadows, most Knights asleep in their tents, others sitting around the embers of the campfires.

In the rising light of dusk, Ta-Ze left the village behind.

Where is Ta-Ze’s village located? d4 = 3 → South

What direction does the Witch lie? d4 = 4 → West.

Weather: d6 = 4 → Overcast, dry and grim…for now

Wits test: d20 = 10 vs 15(wits) → Success. Travel 2 hexes.

+1 Doom die = 1.

What lies ahead? 2d6 = 9 → Witchery: sickening flora, charms

Search

+1 Doom Die = 2.

Test wits: 11 vs 15 → Success

1d4 = 2 rations.

Landmark: d66 = 51 → Cloistered hamlet

Heading west, the land grew increasingly warped, trees that bled from knotholes, flower blossoms of eyes that looked all too human, putrid-colored moss rippling over the ground, all good signs Ta-Ze was heading in the right direction.

Amidst the corrupted greenery, they found a patch of wildberries, seemingly untouched, and harvested as many as they could.

Continuing on, through a copse of trees, they witness a small settlement, surrounded by a wooden fence, six foot high, poles sharpened at the top. The spire of a church could be seen within, clearly the tallest building in the village.

They approached the gate cautiously.

One man stood on a platform behind the fence overlooking the gate. “Halt!” the man calls out. “Who goes there?”

“My name is Ta-Ze. I am a traveler, simply passing through.”

“Be you of the Faith?” The man called out.

“Yes of course,” Ta-Ze replied. “I am a believer.”

“Then you may enter.”

Within the walls lay a hamlet smaller even than Ta-Ze’s own village. The hamlet folk wore hoods and robes, whispered prayers constantly, and gave suspicious glares toward Ta-Ze’s bizarre appearance.

Spark Table: Burning Zeal. 2d20 = 6, 12 → “Forgotten” “Chaplain”

In the center of the hamlet, a man was impaled to a cross, his eyes closed, although still alive, blood dried upon the wood.

“Our chaplain forgot his place,” an old woman spat on the ground by Ta-Ze’s feet. “He let the Witch in. You can see it all around us, but with our Faith, we resist it. We cast it out.”

Ta-Ze could see the burning ferocity in the woman’s eyes as she stared at the dying man upon the cross. “I see,” he replied.

She glowered at Ta-Ze. “You do not look like one of the Faith.”

“I am no Witch,” Ta-Ze said, returning her glare without emotion.

She spat again and walked away.

“We’re a suspicious lot, especially after…what happened,” a man said, approaching. He wore chaplain’s robes. “But as long as you are no Witch, you are welcome to rest and respite.” He smiled, showing too much teeth. “I hope you forgive the more…aggressive of our flock.”

“How about that rest and respite? I must be on my way in the morning."

“Yes, yes, of course. Come to the church, it’s where we take our meals together, and there are spare cots in the basement. My name is father Hanvo.”

Dinner was a communal meal consisting of hard, stale bread and a thin stew that was almost all broth, followed by father Hanvo giving sermon on the corrupting influences of Witchery, the steadfastness of the Faith, the unwavering spirit of the community as a bastion of light in the darkness of Witchery all around them, and more.

Ta-Ze tuned it out after a point.

A slowly dying commune of religious fanatics spiraling as the lands outside become more and more corrupted by Witchery…

Ta-Ze would not stick around to see it collapse.

Consume food. HD → d8.

Day 2. Weather: Grey. Move +1 Hex.

Does anyone try to stop Ta-Ze from leaving? d6 = 5 → Yes.

Ta-Ze woke early in the basement of the church, a few others without their own homes slept in other cots around the room.

In the pitch darkness, Ta-Ze made their way to the stairs and up, into the empty main chamber. Outside, he headed for the gate, the gray dawn just barely arrived.

Another man stood at the gate and, turning notice Ta-Ze approaching.

The guard dropped from the platform and stood in front of the gate, hand on the club swinging at his hip. “You can’t leave ‘til the father says so.”

“You are holding me prisoner? What crime have I committed?” Ta-Ze asked.

“Them’s the rules,” the guard said. “After…after what happened, we can’t be too careful.”

Ta-Ze knew what went unspoken. ‘We can’t let a Witch leave if that what you be.’

“My friend!” Father Hanvo came hurrying along. “I must apologize, I did not realize you were up already. I must have a word before you leave.”

A few villagers were coming out of their homes and watching.

Ta-Ze let one hand rest by the sling at his waist, the other in a pocket, holding a stone. “Why do you hold hostage innocent travelers, father?”

“You must understand, we must…be careful.”

“I have offered no harm or offense. Let me leave.”

Hanvo gulped, glanced at the growing number of villagers. “We just…we have to be certain, first.”

“Certain of what?” Ta-Ze asked, although they already knew.

“That you are not a Witch, of course. If you are and we let you leave…” he shook his head. “We would be punished, severely, as we have before.”

“I am no Witch.” Ta-Ze said. “A Witch would burn before entering so holy a place as your church, would they not?” They asked, looking around at the villagers. “I ate of your food. I partook of your hospitality. A Witch would not do so.”

Some looked convinced, others did not.

Hanvo bit his lip, then shook his head. “We must be certain. Please, all you must do is prove yourself and then you can leave.”

“And how does one prove they are not a Witch?”

“First, we search your body for Marks. Finding none, we then perform the Pricking tests. Should you pass those, you will be allowed to leave. Simple and easy.” Hanvo smiled, showing too many teeth once more.

Ta-Ze pulled a stone from his pocket, put it in his sling and swung it around his head. “Nobody is touching me,” they said.

“Witch!” the old woman from the day before called out, pointing.

The guard by the gate drew his club. A few of the villagers held makeshift weapons. Some looked ready to fight, others uncertain. Most looked to father Hanvo.

“Please, this is unnecessary-”

“Tell everyone to stand down,” Ta-Ze said. “No blood needs to be shed this day.”

Does father Hanvo listen? 2 = No.

“It didn’t have to be like this,” Hanvo said sadly.

Test wit: 15 vs 15 → Success.

Ambush: Next attack counts as Brutal.

The guard took a step closer.

Ta-Ze let the stone fly.

Range: near

d4 = 1, 4, SAVAGE, d4 = 1. 5 dmg.

The guard has a gambeson. Takes 4 dmg.

The stone struck the guard upside the head knocking him back a step.

Ta-Ze ran to the gate.

Surprised by the sudden violence, the townsfolk hesitate to move.

“Kill the Witch!” The old woman shrieked.

The guard charged after Ta-Ze.

Hand to hand. d4 > d4 vs d4 = 4 vs 1. 3 dmg, reduced by 1 armor. 2 dmg, Might drops to 8.

A swing of the guard’s sword cut into Ta-Ze’s arm.

A handful of the villagers strove forward, their bloodlust engaged.

Wits test to flee: 16 vs 15 → Fail.

Ta-Ze couldn’t get the gate open with the guard in their face, they grabbed their hatchet and swung at the Guard.

hand to hand: d4 vs d8 = 1 vs 6. 5 - 1 = 4 dmg.

Use HD: d8 = 8 → Block all dmg. HD drops to d6.

The villagers press in on all sides, howling for blood, three of them getting in close.

Wits to flee: d20 = 18 vs 15 → Failure

Hatchet vs Sword, Knife, Sickle, Club: d4 vs d8, d4, d4, d4>d4

2 vs 7 = 5 dmg - 1 = 4. Roll HD: d6 = 6! No dmg taken. HD dropped to d4.

Swinging in a frenzy, Ta-Ze pushed the villagers back.

Wits to flee: d20 = 18 → Failure

3 vs 4 → 1 dmg, blocked by Gambeson.

The blows came from all sides, Ta-Ze doing their best to fend off the attacks, but getting battered all the same.

Wits to flee: d20 = 6 → Success!

Ta-Ze shifted a shoulder under the post blocking the gate and shoved it up and out, kicking the gate open behind them. They gave one last wild swing, backing the others off, before taking off at a dead sprint into the woods.

The villagers were slow to follow, their steps faltering, their eyes widening at the open gate and the diseased forest beyond.

Ta-Ze staggered away from the hamlet, gasping for breath, surprised they were still alive.

Photo by Taylor Wright on Unsplash

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