The Barony of Darkmoor

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Darkmoor Campaign Book I — Conclusion

And so, as the chronicles report, by mid-Summer’s Day, 1451 NR, the Circle of Darkmoor had defeated the orc bandit king known as the Gauntlet and reclaimed the Moat House in the name of the Baron of Darkmoor, Arthur Grey, first ruler of that realm since the ruinous War.

The sorceress known to the Circle as Vindurain, however, had escaped. No artifacts of the Cult are known to have been discovered in the retaking of the Moat House, though lost journals of Pieter Strahausen, known as Old Pieter are said to have been recovered as well as other lost items of the last Grey dynasty. It is known, for instance, that the Investigator’s Wand was recovered and carried by Dixit Sindarin.

In Elder Pool at this time the rumblings of the coming war had already begun. Assassinations, threats and a growing undercurrent of violence were reported. The Guilds, under High Guildmaster Andreas Book, seemed in particular to be victims of repeated attacks.

The same types of activities as we’ve written about regarding in our previous series on the great war are reported during this period: graves found disturbed or empty, abductions, especially of the young, especially of young females; weapons and medicaments burgled from homes and shops. These patterns repeat with the rising of the Cult, over and over again.

During this brief interlude, however, the individual actions of what now we clearly see as a growing willingness to act by the Cult seem to have been dismissed, or not taken for anything more than the lawlessness of Darkmoor to which generations had grown accustomed.

That is, until the onset of the Blight.

Elanthiel Soryth, Chronicler of Darkmoor, 1560 NR

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Entry 56

Unfortunately the Sorcerer was not present or otherwise not able to receive us. However, Lady Sparrowhawk and I did meet with Rectus. He shared a great deal about what he variously called the Cult and the Elementals. We listened with interest, but as is often the case in these consultations with the Royal Sage, the diversions and cross-references and allusions made it difficult to glean from the session everything one might.

The Cult, apparently, has existed in the region of Darkmoor, at at least some minimal, bubbling level, for centuries. Rectus indicated that it may be that the ancient origins of the Cult may have crawled out of the swamps and spread first amongst the rabble before being adopted by certain power-hungry members of the guilds and the nobility. The Sage spoke, a bit hesitantly, about some great-great uncle of Lord Grey who was burned due to his heretical beliefs.

The being these Cultists revere has transmogrified over time. It was much more openly Zuggtmoy the lady of rot and ruin initially. In a second or third rising of the Cult, the emphasis was on a being representing the elements of mud, wind, wildfire and storm. What name they may have given to this creature is lost to time. Although perhaps now known to the current iteration.

Rectus showed us a drawing from a yellowing scroll of the symbol of this Cult. Both he and the Knight of Darkmoor turned immediately to me. I must have emitted a sound without realizing it. The figure on that fading parchment matched — not exactly, but unmistakably — the bit of scarified ink scratched into the lower back of Valentine.

Recommitted as I am to the Truth and to disclosing those uncomfortable facts that I previously withheld, I disclosed my personal history with this symbol. “She told me it was a family crest, of a sort,” I explained.

“The Cult survives, one assumes,” the Sage replied, keeping any note of recrimination from his tone and expression, “by handing it down in secret from generation to generation.”

We spoke further of this Cult. Rectus provided us with a mystery, which he challenged us to investigate. A bit of a chant or poem, from the secret tongue of the Cult:

Mela torum, vena sela

Salat ferum,

What that is supposed to mean, I have no insight.

Tomorrow, I am to meet with Aldmaar while Lady Sparrowhawk remains in Anthracite in hopes of meeting with the Sorcerer. I must disclose the truth of this Cult and my own perfidy to my great friend. I will feel better once I have bared my soul, though the act of doing so at this moment seems impossible.

San Nicholas, I beseech from you the strength my convictions require.

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Moat House Stronghold Reference

Controlled By: Sir Kog

The Moat House is a reclaimed ruin now serving as a martial bastion and regional power base for Sir Kog and the Circle of Darkmoor.

Basic Structure

  • Max Garrison: 20 trained defenders
  • Castillion: Veteran steward appointed by Baron Grey
    • Tier = Kog’s Tier – 2
    • No garrison member may exceed the Castillion’s tier

Stronghold Turns

You may issue 1 Stronghold Action:

  • Every 3 sessions, OR
  • When granted by the GM during narrative downtime

Orders may be issued from:

  • The Moat House
  • Elder Pool
  • Another PC’s Stronghold

Default Order: If no new order is issued, a pre-selected default order is followed

🛠️ Stronghold Actions (Moat House Specific)

⚔️ Garrison

  • Recruit up to 4 new Tier 1 defenders
  • Cannot exceed garrison cap (20)

Train

  • Gain a pool of training points = Strength modifier (min 1)
  • Spend 1 point to increase a garrison defender’s Tier by 1
  • No defender may exceed the Castillion’s tier

Deploy

Option A: Mercenary Service

  • Deploy up to 4 defenders for income
  • Earn 5 gp per Tier per Stronghold Turn
  • Contract length: 3 Stronghold Turns
    • Units return automatically unless garrison is full
    • If full, return on the first Turn space is available

Option B: Internal Assignment

  • Deploy defenders to another Stronghold or key location (e.g., Elder Pool)
  • May be commanded by that PC if assigned to another player’s stronghold
  • Does not generate income, but contributes to regional security

Fortify

  • Improve the Moat House’s defensive infrastructure
  • Requires time and possibly gold
  • Future upgrades may unlock new capabilities

Patrol

  • Assign a squad of 4 defenders to roads or wilds to improve travel safety
  • Mechanics TBD

Character Benefit: Veteran of the Gauntlet

Owning the Moat House allows Kog to unlock additional martial insight:

  • At Level 4, select one alternate subclass feature from another Fighter archetype (level 3 feature only)
  • Does not replace existing subclass
  • Future upgrades may allow additional features at higher tiers

Barony Benefit

The Moat House provides:

  • Trained militia for Darkmoor’s defense
  • Deployable mercenaries for income
  • A symbol of restored order in a formerly lawless region
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Stronghold Rules – Circle of Darkmoor Campaign

What Is a Stronghold?

A stronghold is a player-controlled base of operations. Each PC may eventually gain access to their own stronghold, which:

  • Produces tangible benefits for the Barony
  • Grants the character unique mechanical advantages
  • Evolves over time through player choices

Strongholds vary based on the PC and their faction: martial bastions, arcane enclaves, religious shrines, etc.

Stronghold Turns

Each Stronghold operates on a turn system. You may issue 1 Stronghold Action per turn.

When Do Turns Occur?

  • Every 3 sessions, each PC may issue a Stronghold Order
  • GM may grant extra orders after major narrative time jumps

✉️ How Do I Issue an Order?

You may issue an order if you are at:

  • Your own Stronghold
  • Elder Pool
  • Another PC’s Stronghold (if they’ve allowed it)

If you’re cut off (e.g. in a dungeon), you cannot issue a new order—but your default order applies.

Default Orders

  • Each player sets a “default” Stronghold Order
  • If no order is issued during a turn, the default is followed automatically
  • Changing the default requires being present or sending a specific instruction
    • This can accompany a Stronghold Order
    • It does not consume a Stronghold Order
    • Both can be accomplished in a single Stronghold Turn

Barony Benefits

Each Stronghold contributes to the Barony in a concrete way:

  • Training soldiers
  • Generating income
  • Restoring trade
  • Producing food or magical goods

These contributions are tracked and will influence the prosperity and security of Darkmoor.

Character Benefits

Each PC gains unique subclass-adjacent bonuses based on their Stronghold:

  • These are optional extensions of their core class features
  • Typically one feature from an alternate subclass, with tier-based limits
  • Improve as the character levels up

Examples:

  • Kog (Martial): May select one Fighter subclass feature from another path
  • Hammond (Religious): May gain a domain feature from another cleric domain

These benefits should reflect the PC’s identity and their influence as a leader.

Stronghold Actions (General Examples)

These vary by stronghold, but often include:

  • Train: Improve personnel or capabilities
  • Recruit/Garrison: Call new members or units to the stronghold
  • Deploy: Assign personnel for defense or income
  • Fortify: Improve defenses or infrastructure
  • Research: Unlock magical, historical, or political insights
  • Trade/Harvest: Generate materials or revenue

Further details are specific to each stronghold (separate documents to be provided).

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Entry 54

I sit here in this modest room at the Ragged Moon, hunched over this journal. I commit to this: no matter how shameful my actions have proven to be, I will not withhold them. I have been lying for too long, to my flock, to Aldmaar who only sought to help me, to the very Lord I have sworn to serve, and most despicable of all, to myself.

I was almost literally dragged by my ear by Lady Sparrowhawk, Knight of Darkmoor, to the cemetery where she shattered the chain securing the great door of the mausoleum. “Pieter,” she advised, holding my gaze with her firm, piercing blue eyes, “you and I will investigate, in this moment, what has been occurring here amongst the dead, as you have several times promised his Lordship you would do without fail.”

I swallowed my pride, and creating a minor enchantment so that we could see despite the impinging darkness, she and I descended.

I do not know what I expected to find. However, my breath was quickly drawn from me as we continued. Row after row of shelves, sepulchers and niches where the bodies of the fallen of Darkmoor had been respectfully interred now lay bare. Not all of the remains had vanished, as we inspected passage after passage in that dark, damp space. Those whose final resting places bore the holy symbol of San Nicholas — or those who had been interred bearing or clutching symbols of my faith– remained. However, many … far, far too many, who I had personally delivered to them their final rites and seen brought to earth here, were lacking. And in a number of instances so great I… do not know how to confront, another symbol had been hidden here, perhaps alongside them this entire time. A dark symbol of fire and torrent, marsh and smoke minted into coins and pressed into stone and woven into dark, noisome bedclothes were all that served to indicate that a person, in their final form, had ever resided in these spots.

“The people, Nikita, they’ve been stolen.”
“The dead, Pieter, have arisen and stolen themselves.”

The symbol, I knew, was that of a threat, a cancer growing in Darkmoor. The “Old Church,” I’ve heard it called. The “Temple of the Elemental.” A secret cult whose members meet in basements and in catacombs, tunnels, concealed places beneath the earth. They speak a forbidden tongue, evil and powerful merely in the speaking. They lie and obfuscate and disguise in their daily lives while they meet in their hidden worm-holes and spread their contagion, pulling especially the young and hungry in with their promises of dark power.

And they prey upon the gullible, the old and vain, with flattery and promises and little gifts. And even those whose wisdom, so-called, is vaunted by many may fall into this web of lies. And then lie to obscure their own part, their own foolishness and naiveté. The cultists use these fools to do work they could not themselves, such as having their allies freed from an earned imprisonment with the shallowest of misrepresentations.

The love that they give, these cultists, is of the ugliest sort. Easily discerned by any willing to look past the pure animal acts. Easy, that is, except to those who look only for evidence that someone might love them.

“You have cried enough, Pieter,” Lady Sparrowhawk said, not unkindly. “Now we must act. At last, you see what is happening in our Darkmoor.”

We returned to the shrine in Elder Pool, to find it entirely vacated. Every item of monetary wealth, gone. Deacon Willmat slain in his robes, a leering grin cut into his dead face by some ritual dagger. Thomas Slate, freed by my incompetence, entirely at large. And with him, likely clutching his young hand and having a shared laugh at my expense, Valentine. Lovely Valentine.

The scales have fallen from my eyes. In the morning, I will travel with the Knight of Darkmoor to speak to the sage, in Anthracite. To learn what we might about how to confront this threat.

But only after I confess my sins to the Lord of Darkmoor. Whatever recriminations he has for me, I will bear with equanimity and take to heart that which I can bear. I have disgraced myself and failed to live up to the promises I made to San Nicholas, on that spare altar these many years agone. But I am Pieter of San Nicholas, and there is no more time for self-pity and tears. We are at war. I can, at this moment, not yet find pity for those who oppose us.

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2025-05-06 Barony of Darkmoor Session 17

Session Notes

Ralluk of the Hundred Tongues stood at the burned site of the old Hay Barn. His Murgathen1 fellows having dragged away the old, sad corpse of the once-feared Shambler to be skinned and essential oils and juices drained, Ralluk watched the last remaining oak post fall into the muck with a sizzle. Ralluk is no leader or strategist, he would be told what role he would play next in this unfolding drama between the hated Gauntlet and the new murderous group, known — as I reported to him — as the Circle of Darkmoor.

“Will they treat?”
I responded that I did not know. That I had witnessed little but impulsiveness and reaction from the Circle.
“Ah. So, they can be manipulated, perhaps?”
I responded that doubtless that was true.
Ralluk nodded his head in that sidewise way peculiar to the Murgathen. His ornate wicker hat interwoven with finger bones from the flightless gobi birds remained implacably perched on the rubbery skin of his scalp. “I will speak to them.”
I cautioned him that the Circle would likely slash first and listen to reason… thirteenth.
He nodded again. The nictating bit of skin moved across his glassy eye. “I must not be too subtle, then.”

Welcome, Dear Reader! It is I, Fluffy, your correspondent from the fens. I have much to share about recent events involving your favorite topic: the Circle of Darkmoor and their on-going assault on the Moat House.

At last reporting, the Circle was hunched in a disused room in the Moat House, licking their wounds. I withheld the exact location in my previous post so as not to guide the Silencers to their holdout before the Circle is ready. Fluffy, my friends, is not quite ready to see an end to the saga of the Circle.

Squeezed into this room, an animated Caretaker harassing them, no doubt, throughout the night, the heroes must have observed the activities being carried out around them within the Moat House’s catacombs. The rounding up and pilfering by various parties. The disputes and threats and recriminations amongst their enemies. While further defenses were being prepared and multiple scenarios were debated, the Circle slumbered, though doubtless with one ear pressed to the door of that shabby room. Did the Murgathen enter the Moat House and confront a small contingent of dwindling Silencers? Did Larsson, captain of the Silencers attempt to lure his erstwhile underling Lucretia out of hiding? Did the witch Vindurain loot the Gauntlet’s treasury and escape via hidden watercraft in all the confusion and preparations? Who can say?

Once the Circle did emerge, they seemed to find themselves alone within the catacombs. There had been the great clatter of the steel plate that secures the catacombs from the surface. As they moved about the echoing complex, there was no sign of the Silencers. They searched and found no one remaining.

Acting on a rumor repeated by Lucretia that the Gauntlet might have had his own secret exit from the complex, they made their way through the concealed door, previously discovered by the cleric of San Nicholas. The Circle dawdled for a bit, examining the room of long-lost Pieter and of Aldmaar. A heavy trunk bearing a significant lock was discovered under the bed of Old Pieter; though it proved too great a task to open given other matters. Amongst the spare apartment of Aldmaar they found a never-used but impressive long bow, doubtless crafted by that famous ranger of old.

However, it was the last room down that hidden hallway that beckoned. It’s great door had been left ajar. Within was a significant horde of items, artifacts, glistening wares of silver and gold, rugs and tapestries of great craftsmanship. And, hanging open and empty, a heavy steel safe. Beneath a tattered rug, they found a grate and beyond it, a ladder leading to a rough passage.

The Circle followed the passage and the trail of dropped coin, ultimately, to the surface, a scant one hundred feet from the Moat House. They emerged, once again, into the fens, unaware of the scores of eyes watching that tunnel opening and their own clumsy splashing about. Did they spot a rough trail leading to the great sea? If so, they did not act on that knowledge.

The Circle wandered in a great Circle of Darkmoor through the dark moors for a time, while the creatures of the swamp watched, contemplated. Licked their rows and rows of dagger-like teeth. Eventually the heroes found the historic Moat House trail, and upon it, a pair of Silencers on horseback returning empty-handed from a vain attempt to find Vindurain and her purloined wealth.

Thus began another battle carried out in well-rehearsed Circle style: running full bore into the teeth of defenses the enemy has prepared with as much coordination and forethought as a pack of wild dogs that finally corners their prey, a thick-skinned, poison-barbed tharg with a separate stomach set aside for each of them.

To their credit, the Circle did manage to slay three of the bandits without losing any of their cohort. Did the Gauntlet and Larsson and two injured Silencers escape, as planned, back into the Moat House and lock themselves back inside and the Circle back outside as if none of this invasion had ever happened? The asking of the question obviates the need to even answer it.

Was there comical scaling, falling and re-scaling of walls? Of course. Did the Circle proceed in multiple separate directions as if even the simplest of battle coordination had never occurred to them? Laughably, yes.

And yet. And yet. They persist. The once vaunted Silencers and their leaders: the Gauntlet, Larsson, the witch Vindurain and the mysterious cultist woman are either fled, dead or hiding in the Moat House exactly as the Circle had done only hours beforehand. The Circle of Darkmoor has not defeated the Silencers. They have not seized the Moat House.

Quite.

  1. The Murgathen do not appreciate the name given to them by others; would you enjoy being called bullywug? ↩︎

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Addendum 2025-04-29

WOTC released a new Sage Advice document that clarifies a few things about the rules. Some early takeaways:

Magical Darkness: they clarify that magical darkness by itself is not impenetrable by Darkvision. if a spell or magical effect specifies that it blocks Darkvision (as is the case with the spell Darkness); then it does, otherwise it does not.

Multiple Dash actions: I don’t think we’ve been confused about this, but they make it clear that if a character gets, for example, the ability to Dash as a bonus action such as Lucretia’s Cunning Action or Kog’s Adrenaline Rush, you can still use your Action to Dash as well; meaning that a character could Move (up to their Speed), Dash as an Action and Dash as a Bonus action to yield Speed X3 in distance covered. Again, I think we’ve always played this way.

Opportunity attacks with reach weapons; if you are holding a weapon with reach (e.g. glaive or halberd) and a foe attempts to move out of your reach, you can use your reaction to attack; note that if you are using a reach weapon this only triggers if they try to move beyond your reach; a 5 foot move would not trigger your OA (though it would trigger any others adjacent not using reach weapons); good news, bad news. There used to be (in the 4e days, maybe even 3e?) an ability/feat called Threatening Reach that allowed you to make OA with reach; now anyone gets it.

Opportunity attacks and grapple, shove: yes, you can use grapple or shove as your OA rather than make a standard attack

Weapon Masteries
You probably noticed that I gave W.M. to the bad guys in our last fight. As I’ve mentioned, I want to stick to monsters from the 2024 Monster Manual for this campaign rather than tweaking them/making my own.

However I am interested in the W.M. effects. I think they are a pretty cool addition. When it comes to NPCs, especially “named” NPCs, I’ve been using DNDBeyond to create a character sheet (for instance, for Vindurain, the sorceress/warlock/witch). I am actually using an existing Monster Manual entry for The Gauntlet, because it’s good enough, but I gave him W.M. for his two weapons (longsword and javelin).

I guess that’s where I’m at right now; NPCs (versus “monsters”) may get the full character creation treatment; and thus have a full set of abilities, or they may be “monster” entries plus weapon masteries.
I may still explore the possibility of introducing some “monsters,” especially recurring ones, who might get a single W.M. with their “standard” weapon from the Monster Manual.

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2025-04-29 Barony of Darkmoor Session 16

Session Notes

I can scarcely arrest my enthusiasm to report to you, Dear Reader, the most recent developments at the Moat House. Let us simply state that the evil triumvirate that has for so long ruled the House, kept the turgid, glistening peoples of the swamp under their thumb and threatened the Old Port Road and beyond has splintered.


It is I, Fluffy, your friendly1 reporter in the fens. I have observed directly, and collected from my embedded spy network the report that you will read here, delivered to you by my guild of intrepid street urchins, and I hereby attest to its accuracy and comprehensiveness.


Our heroes the Circle of Darkmoor found themselves, as you doubtless recall, in a rather tough situation: in a dark passage, on the wrong side of an improvised battlement, Moat House bandits ready with crossbows at their murder holes. A difficult battle — the first of three, Dear Reader — ensued. The witch Vindurain accompanied by a unit of the so-called Silencers: one Bandit Leader and three foot soldiers awaited the Circle. The witch used her preferred technique: opening the fight by employing magical fear on the greatest threat. For a time, both the celebrated Sir Kog and their newly-acquired junior member, Lucretia, formerly of the bandit gang fled under the effects of the spell. The crossbowmen targeted Dixit, Royal Inspector, much-maligned by the so-called Sage of Darkmoor and another auxiliary member of the Circle, the Aldmaaran Ranger Henrik Mars. The Circle tried to target their foes through the barricade, and to bring it down. Vindurain now fixed a spell upon Dixit.

The Circle brought down the two crossbowmen, but their fellows stepped in to take their place. As Dixit attempted to remove herself from the area of the witch’s enchantment, the magical cloud was moved with her; as if Vindurain had a particular interest in eliminating the Anthracite caster.


Ultimately, Kog shook off the effects of the curse and returned to the fray. The Circle managed to penetrate the barricade and then made short work of the remaining bandits. The witch, in a recurring theme, took her exit.


Moving now into the Moat House proper, the Circle decided to march with alacrity towards the entrance, rather than, as they had in their initial foray, descending into the catacombs. They ran almost immediately into another prepared defense. However, Sir Kog as inspired as he is impetuous, smashed through a nearby door, based on his understanding of the layout of the complex, derived, I understand, from one of those recently freed from dread incarceration in the gaols of the Moat House, and bypassed the defensive front.
A general battle ensued, with yet another Silencer troop in defense, assisted by the seemingly rejuvenated Vindurain. The Circle made relatively short work of this crew. Vindurain fled.


Alas, before the Circle could even draw a breath, the fiercest threat possible emerged from the great circling ramp of the hatch-entrance to the Moat House’s catacombs: several bandits, the bandit chief Larsson, the witch Vindurain, an oddly-attired cultist and the castillian known as the Gauntlet.


The Circle at this point had clearly over-extended themselves. They were exhausted, their cleric having expended his larder of curative magics in, mostly, keeping Sir Kog of Darkmoor in the fight. And yet now here was the most daunting battle they had yet faced.
The Circle engaged this fearsome cohort.


The witch, once again, perhaps, renewed, used her fear magics. This time they proved effective against Dixit and Lucretia. Sir Kog drove forward and began, in his inimitable way, to plough through the lower-challenge mass. But the force they faced proved fraught. I will not leave you in unbearable suspense, dear reader, for too long. Our heroes survive. Somehow.


Vindurain, likely having emptied her magazine of spells and having taken blow after blow, departed, leaving the fight to be “mopped up” by her “allies.” She ordered the cultist, who had employed dark clerical magics of her own, to follow.


The clever San Nicholite used one last spell to drive, briefly, Larsson and the Gauntlet away. Not before, seeing the cultist attempt to flee, the Gauntlet struck her down with a single blow.


Finding themselves for a moment of respite alone in the crew’s mess, awash in blood and gore, some from their foes, some originating in their own persons, the Circle finally decided to make, in the humble opinion of you correspondent, their very first tactical decision of any merit. They withdrew.


They crouch now, my dear readers of Darkmoor, in a hidden location. Collecting their breath and their meager strength. Knowing that the witch and the Gauntlet and perhaps a scant handful of remaining troops walk the halls of the Moat House, searching, one assumes, for any sign that they remain.


The Circle, friends, is balanced on the edge of precipice. Can they succeed? Can the Moat House, finally, be taken?


Seek out your filth street urchin next week, my good friends, to find out.

  1. Contrary to previous statements by the interlocutor who I will not name, Fluffy, the “black squirrel” of the Darkmoor fens, is, in fact, a friend to all. Save that little shit Headstrong ↩︎
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2025-04-22 Barony of Darkmoor Session 15

Session Notes

I am afraid, loyal reader, that my circumstance has changed, and not for the better. Not only is the claret exhausted, but the quality of lodging has taken a drastic turn for the worst. One of Darkmoor’s benighted noble class, in the spirit of arts benefaction, had opened their home… or at least their cellars to yours truly, but given the troubles has reluctantly withdrawn support. What times are these, friends?

It is I, Buck Headstrong, your fearless chronicler and the greatest Sage Darkmoor has ever known! I know you are eager to learn details about my unfortunate experience vis-a-vis accommodations. More of that anon, firstly I must turn things over to my correspondent Fluffy. I have heard from many of you concerns that all of this activity in the marsh might have resulted in injury to our black squirrel friend. Relax dear reader: 1) Fluffy is fine; 2) Fluffy is not a squirrel and, as I remind you time and time again, 3) Fluffy is anything but friendly. Without further ado:

The Circle encountered, on the Old Port Road, that former Dark Cloak Lucretia, hiding in the growth. She had, she reported, after hearing the death throes of the ancient Shambler, returned to the fens and recovered the mounts the Circle had left while invading the Moat House. The bandit gang had, for reasons unknown, burnt the Carriage House to the ground and, based on the plume of smoke emerging from the swamps, apparently performed the same act at the Hay Barn. Now convinced that the heroes might have a legitimate chance at defeating the Gauntlet, Larrson, the sorceress she knows as Vindurain and their murderous crew, Lucretia offered her support in making another assault on the Moat House.

The Circle, now mounted, their numbers swollen, made for the Moat House via the trail through the swamps, only to be immediately stopped by a gang of bullywug ambushers. The lizardmen in their dapper attire once again made the Circle appreciate the ferocity of the swamp-dwellers. Led by a Bully Bog Sage, the natty mudmen killed three of the horses, felled two of the Circle and very nearly closed the book on Baron Darkmoor’s attempts to reclaim the Moat House. The Bog Sage immediately unleashed his famous, feared sphere of vitriol to set the right tone. In the end, the Bog Sage had to flee (hop) for his web-toed life while the bodies of his allies were plundered. The Circle, likewise, were forced backwards, to lick their wounds north of the Old Port Road.

After recovering, they decided to release the two remaining horses to fend for themselves before re-entering the marsh. They navigated the old trail, wary of another ambush. The Circle arrived, once again, at the hidden entrance to the tunnel that connects the old Hay Barn to the Moat House. It was locked from the inside. Sir Kog hefted his trusty axe to pry the hatch open… and promptly activated the fire trap on the door. It was more than just his eyebrows that were singed, from my vantage.

The Circle entered the long tunnel and proceeded with as much stealth as they could muster. They encountered, there in the dark, beneath the marsh what appeared to be another trap: a wooden platform, bending under some apparent weight, braced by two poles. After some investigation, they discovered that a great iron sphere was perched, waiting to crush anyone who attempted to remove the poles and clear the path.

After a bit too much deliberation, the Circle settled on the simplest of plans; Sir Kog attached a rope to one of the posts and while the others cowered behind him, he flexed his mighty thews and pulled the pole free. With a great shudder and crash, the massive sphere was released, tumbling forward, the Circle in an almost perfect line in its path… then ground to a halt after rolling a meager ten feet. A marvel of impressive engineering this “trap” was not.

The Circle progressed. At length they arrived at the few steps leading up to the door which, as they had previously learned, led to a hallway inside the Moat House. Dixit examined the door and uncovered an as-yet-unseen variety of trap on the door. Using unearthly skill, she managed to disarm it. Then, using the key ring they had captured from one of the bandits in their last visit, she unlocked the door, which opened to a wooden platform blocking their progress, and from behind holes cut in the planks for this specific purpose, the bandit crossbowmen unleashed their prepared volleys.

Thus endeth the report from Fluffy. Perhaps it is merely my reading of it, here, huddled in the dark and deprived of even the middling spirits native to this backwater, friends, but do you find that Fluffy has added some rouge to his prose? Certainly he would not be so bold as to believe he might supplant myself as correspondent of choice?

In any case, we will continue to follow events at the Moat House and keep you abreast. And whatever wretch sold you this foolscap, please remind them there is only one source for your Circle updates: Buck Headstrong, chronicler extraordinaire. Accept no substitutes.

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Entry 53

To my shame, I was summoned once again to Wolf Hall. His Lordship asked for an update on the matter of the caretaker. I could only honestly reply that I had not, as yet, taken up the matter.

He was very cross with me. I could not argue.

“I am told that you… picnicked on the green?” I admitted that it was true.

“I will summon my Inspector and ask him to look into this mystery at the cemetery, since the Royal Confessor has no time for such matters.”

It stung, hearing these words. I promised that I would delve further into the murder of the caretaker forthwith.

“Do no disappoint me again, Pieter.”

I am not sure how I have allowed things to come to this state. I must make amends.