In my conception, the two modules comprise four main parts, none of which neatly fit together. This disjunction might be regarded a deficiency, but also offers more opportunities for customization. The first part concerns an overland journey, and is composed of a number of compelling encounters, roughly stitched together. Yes, these modules are very modular, and the rough stitching makes it easy to move the pieces around.
Perhaps my favorite element of the first part is the hook—the party is connected to an army with a mandate to repel mysterious invaders, led by an ominous “Master” before these invaders reach the civilized lands. But it’s not like a modern army with documented protocols, written orders, and a clear chain of command. And so the PCs get left behind. Thus the first part is all about the party trying to catchup with the “main army.”
But, when you give this hook some serious thought, there are some problems. A small group of PCs with magical advantages typical of their level should be able to easily catch up with hundreds or thousands of foot soldiers, camp followers, and a baggage train. The module provides a flimsy premise for traveling along a sluggish river, with the plan of meeting the army at a rendezvous point. My players had a large number of characters available so my solution was to split the party, with one group going overland and the other by barge. Each player had one PC with each group. This approach made it feel less railroady and we collaborated on reasons why each route had potential merits and why certain approaches made sense to each group. We settled on the need to deliver a message; splitting the party ensured that at least one group would reach the intended recipient.
And again, there were great encounters along the way. The barge made for a great setting with enemies on either side of the river. The overland group did meet with a large contingent of friendly soldiers and together fought an advance party of raiders.
One very interesting encounter that deserves additional thought is the “swamp curse.” It’s a very atmospheric trap with no enemy to fight, and only one “book” solution, which is to cast Dispel Magic. One of my frustrations with newer D&D is that it can feel like Magic the Gathering. (“Ok, the DM played X spell which is a fire type, so I need to counter with a water type.”) To my mind, magic should not be the main way to solve problems, but a fall back for when things go wrong. So, having PC survival depend on knowledge of the rulebook and being “right” about how the designer would interpret it (not to mention having a cleric of a high-enough level) is too much. If you don’t think this one out in advance, there will likely be an argument, followed by disgruntled hand-waving.
There are some other silly things to mention such as the plot coupon under a hydra. And there are also some more weird cool things like a unique buzzard-headed monster and tombs half-buried in the sand.
The final question about this part of X4 is what to do when the party successfully rejoins the army. In my case, the “message” was that the Master’s armies had found another way to attack the civilized lands and so the army should return to defend their homes. The published adventure uses another pretext for sending the party into the lands of the Master alone. As I describe below, I’d recommend delaying this final confrontation and all of X5.
The second part of X4 is the “Evil Monastery.” I ran this as a separate adventure, an interlude between invasions, without any direct connection to the X4/X5 campaign plot. Because even though a run-down mountain monastery inhabited by corrupted monks enhances the vibe, I couldn’t make sense of the supposed agreement between an evil genius and the buffoonish cannibals who were supposedly “guarding” the entrance to his domain. (He has an army, with juggernauts.) Among the library of moldering scrolls, I dropped some clues that the Master had been at work over centuries, harassing good people. So the monks were just a casualty of his past depravations.
Removing the direct connection provides a great stand-alone adventure. What makes the “Evil Monastery” component so good is the suspense—the gap between when the players have a hunch that something is amiss and the moment when the monks’ true nature is revealed. So plan to stretch out the suspense and then wrap things up quickly once the fighting starts.
I used the Evil Monastery together with some
The two parts of X5 do work together. Part one is the land of Thule (which I renamed Hunza) where the Master’s people live rather normal “D&D land” lives. Markets, taverns, minstrels, puppet shows. But in place of the typically bumbling town watch, you have heavy-handed enforcers on the lookout for wrong-thinking. If you have something to say about global pandemics, misinformation, disinformation, or misinformation, here’s your soapbox. Also, learn what the robe colors mean, it will be important later. White robes are for peasant-level initiates. Yellow robes are for middle management. Red robes are for the “muscle” which doesn’t just mean fighters. Many wield magic. Likewise the purple-robed judges count some retired but capable warriors among their numbers.
The second half of X5 is the actual Temple of Death, which is the Master’s lair, and feels more like a palace, with a succession of ornate buildings, each having more restricted access. Most all of the occupants are robed humans who come in one of the four colors described above. There are also some monster guardians and other NPC villains. This is a well-organized cult headquarters, so combat should be limited if you value verisimilitude. I’d recommend having a plan for how the complex activates if the PCs become openly violent.
There are many ways to avoid open violence. Most will probably involve appropriating sets of robes from the peasants who work the fields around the palace and then trading up to the high-status colors. There are a number of short cuts to victory, which, to my mind, are fair game. Yes, PCs can defeat the Master by destroying his glass coffin, which is in plain sight. Yes, PCs can use the teleportation room to go directly to the Master’s chambers if they saw him in the magic mirror in X4. Yes, PCs can charm a high-ranking enforcer and ask him for an immediate private audience. Yes, PCs can exploit their opponents’ cultish groupthink to avoid combat. But sometimes shortcuts go wrong. Encourage your PCs clever ruses, but be ready for what happens when their plans hit a snag and the cult members realize they’ve been infiltrated.
OSR D&D is not like a video game and so the final boss fight might be a little anticlimactic. My party got the jump on the Master and took him down in one round. If he doesn’t get taken down at once, he has a number of escape plans. (Including the ability to return to life in a new body.) The module doesn’t really explain how the cult members will respond if the Master’s current body is destroyed so give that some thought as well.
I found this pair of shambolic modules a lot of fun to run, finding in their numerous gaps and a rather abstract villain, plenty of room to add additional material and create a long and multi-threaded story arc. Comments and questions are most encouraged.
* The OSR adventures that I used were Valley of the Five Fires and The Northland Saga Part 4 Blood on the Snow. Wow, in finding those links I realize those adventures are over 10 years old. And yes, the first is based on Mongols and the second on Vikings. X4 and X5 are stylized as West meets East. The campaign also works as Far East meets Central East. And Vikings are Mongols with boats and trashy blond hair.
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