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226 Vengeance is Ours: Rise of the Raggers
Saturday 10 AM in 149 for 8 HoursGM: Les Child
Type: RPG
System: Dungeons & Dragons
Edition: 1e
Players: 7
Power Level: Beginning
Variations: House Rules
Rules Knowledge: Experience Useful
Game Content: Mature Themes
You're farmers kids. Raised to do chores and help with the running of the household. But today, you're adventurers. Six of the mightiest bravos to ever wield a stick (sword or mace), a long stick (lance) or even a rock. No scarecrow was a match for your band of heroes. But this day would end as no other. As the sunlight faded from the sky, it was time to head back to your village for supper. But as you crest the hill, you see your village, your homes, in ruins. Houses smoldering, livestock either dead or wandering, and bodies lying in the dirt road. Only the stone building that was the town hall remains standing. You stand for a moment, shocked by this sight, before rushing into town, shouting the names of your parents and siblings.
It was perhaps an hour later when you all gathered at the town hall, faces tear streaked and filthy, the blood of family slaughtered on your hands.
“They're gone, all of them.”
As one, you push against the door of the town hall, shoving aside furniture that was stacked up against it from the inside. Near the back you find Consular Evin the town leader. He sits on the floor, a black arrow protruding from his stomach, “so they didn't get you kids. Good. I thought myself safe until one got a bowshot through a high window at me.” His voice was ragged, and blood leaked from his mouth as he spoke, “they are the Black Avatar, marauders from the lands south. They are without mercy or conscience.”
“I'm done for, but perhaps you can mete out some justice for our people, or find someone who will.”
Consular Evin pulled a key on a leather string around his neck and tried to pull it over his head. He sat back, exhausted, “cut the damn thing and take the key to the basement. You'll have to move some desks to find the hatch. There are weapons and items you can use that were confiscated from criminals.”
He slumped sideways, his eyes barely open, “get justice or vengeance. Either will do.”
And with that message, the consular died, leaving six tired youths to contemplate what to do next.



















