Background

Karak Guld, like the other successor states, is defined by one overriding characteristic: the thing that keeps it treading the same ground over and over. In Karak Guld’s case, hyperpartisanship drives its recursion; the parliamentary monarchy that rules Karak Guld cannot get anything done because the dwarf clans cannot agree on anything, period.

The Fairy Godmother’s Grand Undertaking needs more industrial capacity to build the machines that she claims will save the world. The dwarves have foundries, metalworks, and artificers in spades, but can the heroes convince them to help?

A Brief Prologue for the Narrator

Shadowveil 27th 501NMR 3:30pm

Fredrick

I stood before my latest nemesis, contemplating how to deal the finishing blow. Unfortunately, my latest nemesis was a painting.

My angel smiled at me from the canvas on my easel, radiant in a red cloak and cheerfully holding a basket despite the autumnal forest’s gloom. The scene on the offending painting came together nicely, but it wasn’t quite done, and I couldn’t put my finger on what I still needed to add.

As I contemplated my weapons and palette, I heard the faintest jingling from the top of the tower stairs. My ears shot straight up. I knew that stride quite well, and I had been waiting for her to come home for a month.

The door swung open with enough force to send a breeze strong enough to flick paint off my brush. Framed in the doorway was my only goddaughter, Caitríona. The young hobgoblin looked like she’d stepped out of a western novel, probably the part where the red-haired cowgirl had just endured a grueling ordeal. She definitely looked haggard, but in my experience, that’s to be expected when you cross the Feyglimmer Sea in the late-autumn gales.

“Ah, Caitríona, you are finally home,” I said, raising my arms to hug her. “I have been waiting for your return…”

“Can the gushy talk, chief,” she said, sneering. “I’m here to deliver the lowdown on the fairy godmother’s posse, collect the shooting iron you promised, then vamoose back to the Summer Rose and wash out the stench of dwarf, sea salt, and vomit from my insides and out. Consider this the last time I do spy work for ya.” She slid into the smaller chair in the study and, with a definitive clunk, set her tall leather boots on my blotter.

Something in her expression said those boots wouldn’t move unless she wanted them to.

“Surely it was not that bad,” I said as I doffed my smock, though her expression as I crossed the room told me otherwise.

“Okay, it was that bad,” I said, sliding into my big chair. “So what happened?”

She took a deep breath and said, “All right, chief, it started on the morning of the 11th when we were eating breakfast at Captain Stormalong’s table…”

Breakfast at sea

Emberfall 11th 501NMR.

Karak Guld City Harbor.

It’s been a relatively quiet three days at sea aboard the Tuscarora; now Karak Guld City is in sight. Your mountain of a captain, Alfred Bullthrop Stormalong, has invited you to one last breakfast at the captain’s table. You sit atop Captain Stormalong’s massive dining table as the jolly giant seafarer digs into a hill of johnny cakes and bacon.

As chief diplomats, you sit in the position of honor closest to Captain. Stormalong’s plate. Around you, the rest of the diplomatic mission’s officers sit: an odd assortment of elven accountants, human functionaries, well-armed dwarf translators, and gnome and kobold engineers from the Scraplands. Each group makes small talk as they eat, occasionally glancing your way.

Who do you talk to first?

The Fairy Godmother has thrown the players into the deep end, with almost no briefing beyond a sealed letter they must deliver and read to the King of Karak Guld. This scene helps them orient themselves before meeting the King of the Dwarves. Through action and conversation, they can learn about their diplomatic team and details about the city, dwarven culture, and the Althing from other scenes in this chapter at the Narrator’s discretion. By the end of the scene, they should at least have an inkling that Karak Guld’s politics will be the challenge of the adventure.

The Captain and his Breakfast Guests

Along with the players, the following people are at the table.

• Captain AB Stormalong: Giant, 25 feet tall, broad-shouldered, and big-chested; brown hair and a long seaman’s beard; dressed like a 19th-century Yankee skipper. Speaks with a very loud Boston accent; likes to tell stories about his adventures; gives vague pleasantries about missing his most recent guests once he departs that evening
• Maurice Larousse. Elf account. Wiry, thin-faced, no visible hair, dressed like a 15th-century moneychanger in a black robe and skullcap. Nervous, barely picking at his bowl of gruel, preoccupied with the amount of money he is responsible for (100,000,000 guildenmarks), particularly the security. He wants reassurance from the heroes and Luberlug about security. Speaks with a French accent.
• Luberlug Hardjaw: Dwarf mercenary Brigadier. Battle-scarred, body like a warhammer topped with a red rockstar wig. Native Karak Guildian but clanless. Mercenary, in it for the money, but willing to crush some clansmen’s skulls for no extra charge. Has a native understanding of Karak Guild culture and history, but not politics. Does not like the kobolds. Speaks with a Norwegian accent
• Remi Carpentier: Human: chief junior diplomat. Completely unassuming and plain-looking. In the context of the mission, he is the political equivalent of a gofer and has been instructed to do anything the heroes ask. Responds to any request from the players with “yes, sir.” Vaguely aware of the political situation in Karak Guld but not of the specifics. Speaks with a French accent.
• Slovir, Jelibbnack, Mamambaim: Gnomes, chief technical advisors. Look like piles of hair in steam-engineer clothes, goggles, and gnome caps. Extreme introverts who require considerable effort for them to talk about anything other than engineering and invention. Know all about the Grand Undertaking machines but cannot explain them in a way normal people can understand. They come out of their shells when presented with interesting engineering problems.
• Kerg Hazefall, Kobuc Sharpborn, Ghribe Brewdigger: kobold mechanics from the SSG railway. They’re stripped down to their shorts because of the tropical heat. Extreme extroverts, they can’t stop talking about the clockwork narrow-gauge engines and railway cars they plan to sell to the dwarves, and they’re eager to explain how they work. All three have been battling bouts of seasickness throughout the voyage.

Where’s Catorina?

She is hiding under the table, dangerously close to Mr. Stormalong’s boots. Players with tags suggesting observant natures might catch a glimpse of her hiding behind a table leg as they leave.

City Docks

You step off the Tuscarora launch onto a basalt wharf. Before you stands the city, a pile of blocky grey stone buildings cut through with rivers of lava climbing the volcano’s side. Aside from the small knots of dwarf longshoremen and golems around each of the four launches, almost nobody is here except a well-dressed dwarf with a braided blond beard by an ox-pulled carriage, waving at you.

What do you do?

Dwarf longshoremen and golems: Gangs of dwarves unload the launches with the help of orc-sized golems. Each group has several dwarves in matching clothing, each bearing a prominent symbol on their chest. The golems also bear the same symbols on their chests. Each group is homogeneous, and neither is inclined to talk with foreigners.

• If asked, any Karak Guld native will say that dockers from Clan Diamondtooth and Clan Rockbreaker haven’t worked together since Black Tuesday of 4091, two hundred years ago.
  • For example, whenever members of opposing crews get within 20 feet of each other, they briefly taunt one another before returning to work.

Launches: 3 other launches, each as big as a sloop, are being unloaded. Luberlug and his Landsknechts are marching off the farthest one and toward the one closest to the players’ own launch. Around the next closest, the kobolds are underfoot, trying to direct the longshoremen to handle their cargo carefully. Maurice is hovering around the launch closest to the heroes, watching as large, heavy chests are lugged down the gangplank.

Well-Dressed Dwarf: No matter what the players do, the Well-Dressed Dwarf will not wait to introduce himself. He introduces himself as Reitdrom Flatmail, junior bailiff and nephew to the High King of Karak Guld, and gives each of them a rock-breaking handshake. He is here to escort the players to their meeting with the king, and he does so briskly, shuffling them into the waiting carriage without hesitation.

A Tour through a Nearly Abandoned City

As the players rumble through the city, use this time to show what Karak-Guld’s political dysfunction looks like on the ground. When the conversation lulls, use one of the following quick scenes to give the players a glimpse of the city’s decay, desperation, and absurd factionalism.

• The carriage passes a whole street of abandoned houses that seem consumed by lava.
• Two groups of dwarves in different liveries part to let the carriage pass through. Once the carriage passes, the groups charge in and start beating each other up.
• As they roll over a bridge over a river of lava, the ride gets considerably rougher. The wheels grind as stonework crumbles beneath them.
• A side street has been fenced off. One of the clans has built a shanty town around the busy foundry on that street. Several dwarves watch the carriage suspiciously; a few carry crossbows.
• Destitute-looking dwarves hold signs along the street. Any character who can read Dwarvish learns these signs are pleas for work, and they’ll work for any clan. They are clanless.
• The carriage has to swerve to dodge an abandoned sewer repair project, now just a gaping hole in the road surrounded by decaying equipment.
• A massive wall cuts through the middle of the city, slicing through partially demolished buildings and curving inward on itself. (This is the citadel of the Silvershoulder King clan)—the sounds of industry echo from within.
• The carriage rumbles through a marketplace. Despite the wide-open space, most stalls sit in a few small clusters, far apart.

Reitdrom is more than willing to explain each scene, but each explanation boils down to citing a famous incident or feud without further detail.

Audience with the Blue King of the Dwarfs

At the top of the city stands a large domed building the size of Castle Sliberberg. Reitdrom quickly ushers you inside and through several empty but grand concrete halls with fine molded details to a threadbare throne room, where an old, grey, down-looking dwarf sits on a slightly tarnished throne in faded blue-and-gold finery.

“May I present to you Nurargrumli Goldshield the Blue, the 900th high king of the dwarves.

His Majesty sighs and says, “Welcome, ambassadors of the Fairy Godmother. What bids you here?”

Before leaving for Karak Guld, Fionnualathe Fair, aka the Fairy Godmother, gave the players an envelope containing a letter with her official greetings and a request for Karak Guld to join the undertaking. Hand the player a copy of the following in an envelope, then tell them to read it aloud, verbatim

To His Most August Majesty, Nurargrumli Goldshield the Blue, Twelfth High King of Karak-Guld, First Among the Dwarven Clans, Keeper of the Ancient Oaths, Lord of the Deep Foundries, and Other Titles Which Are Too Numerous to Fit Comfortably Upon One Page,

From Her Majesty Fionnualathe Fair, High Queen of Royaume des Rêves, Fairy Godmother, and Servant of the Greater Good,

Greetings.

I write to you concerning a matter of the utmost importance to the safety and prosperity of Domhannau, and indeed to all the peoples who dwell beneath the heavens.

As you may have heard, I have undertaken a great work, hereafter referred to as the Grand Undertaking, to construct certain machines of extraordinary size, complexity, and expense that I believe will prove indispensable in preventing several extremely unpleasant things from happening to the world.

I regret that I cannot presently provide more specific details concerning these machines, as doing so would require explaining several matters which are both secret and very complicated. I have been advised that diplomatic correspondence is not the proper place for diagrams involving seventeen different kinds of arrows.

Your Majesty’s realm possesses foundries, mines, artificers, engineers, and artisans renowned throughout Domhannau. I sincerely hope Karak-Guld will join the Grand Undertaking and lend its considerable talents to this endeavor.

I am prepared to provide fair compensation for all materials, labor, machinery, and expertise your kingdom contributes. I am also prepared to discuss additional gifts, contracts, trade privileges, and other mutually agreeable arrangements, should you require them.

I believe this undertaking lets Karak-Guld show the world what dwarves can achieve when they direct their considerable talents toward a common purpose.

I am told your people have a long, distinguished tradition of solving difficult engineering problems.

I am also told you have a less distinguished tradition of arguing over who is permitted to solve them.

I sincerely hope the latter will not prove an insurmountable obstacle to the former.

Should Your Majesty and the Althing agree to participate, my representatives are authorized to negotiate the necessary contracts and arrangements on my behalf.

May your forges burn brightly, your mines remain plentiful, and your bridges remain standing.

With the highest regard and warmest hopes for our future friendship,

Fionnuala the Fair

High Queen of The Royaume des Rêves

The Fairy Godmother

And, temporarily, Person in Charge of an Absurdly Large Construction Project

Before the players finish, High King Goldsheild stops them and says they have convinced him; however, the heroes’ efforts will be for naught, because he can’t get anything done. He says it plainly, with a weary shrug, as though the answer has been obvious all along.

He asks the players about the crumbling bridge on the main street they rode over. He reveals that he and the lord mayor have been trying to get that bridge repaired since he ascended 40 years ago, and that in that time the Allthing couldn’t agree on who would get the contract, citing slights, vendettas, and grudges older than he is. The funds have been allocated, the material purchased, but that’s it. That’s how things work in Karak Guld: the clans agree on only one thing—they hate each other, and the current King of the dwarves should be replaced.

Nonsensical Politics for the Confused Foreigner

Players will naturally ask how everything got so dysfunctional, and High King Goldsheild is willing to answer. Use the following facts to guide his answers.

• An assembly of Clan heads rules the dwarves of Karak Guld, called the Allthing.
• This assembly makes laws and elects a High King to serve as head of state, and, more importantly for High King Goldsheild, can vote him out with a vote of no confidence.
• The Allthing meets every 21 days; nobody remembers why it’s only ever every 21 days.
• Each clan head has one vote in the assembly; for any law or decision to pass, 2/3rds of the heads must vote yes.
• To signal approval, a chief either raises their hand or stands up, usually both at once.
• This and much more fundamental dwarf law is spelled out in a grand charter called the Ironbound Agreement. The charter consists of 600 iron tablets stored in a vault in the palace basement.
• The clans have a complicated history of broken deals, blood oaths, marital ties, business deals, investments, grudges, and other unresolved history. As a result, the clans have naturally consolidated into 4 factions centered around common interests, shared businesses, and peer pressure. Each faction is led by one of the country’s 4 most powerful clans, the so-called King Clans. The king clans are:
  • Goldshields, his own clan of which he is the clan head
  • Silvershoulders
  • Mithrilback
  • Undermantle
• The king clans are so powerful that when the clan heads decree something, their allied clans follow without question. Each of the last 50 high kings headed one of the king clans before ascension, hence the moniker.

If the players don’t believe things can be that bad, High King Goldsheild invites them to an Allthing session to observe; maybe they can get their proposal onto the floor if the partisan screaming matches don’t take too long.

Mad Politics

Later that day, you sit with Reitdrom on a balcony above a large circular assembly hall. Below, the seats are packed with dwarves, and the tension is obvious; several screaming matches between clan heads have already broken out,a few nearly evolved into fistfights before the bailiffs intervened.

A huge gong sounds, and High King Nurargrumli Goldsheild enters. A bailiff asks everyone to rise, but only a quarter of the dwarves do.

King Nurargrumli sits down and shouts, “Order, order, let us begin with discussion as to which clan will be contracted to rebuild the Main Street bridge.”

All hell breaks loose.

For the next few minutes, the hall becomes a roaring pit of voices shouting over each other. The heroes might catch a snippet here or there, mostly accusations and insults. The big gong keeps ringing out, trying to silence the ruckus.

When the allthing finally comes to order, it’s not much better. People no longer talk over each other, but the discussion still revolves around grudges, slights, and insults. Everyone agrees the bridge needs fixing. Every argument is technically about the bridge, but really about why a given clan shouldn’t handle the repairs, usually citing some ongoing feud or grudge.

During the discussion, four dwarf heads seem to take charge, leading their quarter of the assembly against the other three.

• High King Nurargrumli Goldshield
• Thozoutryd Silvershoulder: A hunched, grey, old dwarf woman in a silver stole and red dress, with hair that falls to her feet and beady, suspicious eyes
• Dalornath Mithrilback: A middle-aged dwarf man in green and grey, with soot-stained blond hair covering every surface.
• Arandram Undermantle: A dwarf man in orange full armor, sans helmet, of indeterminate age. Has red hair and a braided beard with skull-shaped beads.

After twenty minutes, the Althing agrees on four potential candidates, one from each faction. They vote, and each candidate receives exactly one-quarter of the votes.

Each candidate receives exactly one-quarter of the votes.

The motion fails.

This pattern continues for each item on the docket.

The Player’s Mountain to Climb

When the session is finished, Reitdrom asks the players what they think. He explains that this was one of the most productive sessions in recent memory; at least they agreed some problems needed fixing. Usually, they cannot even agree on that.

He explains that to get the Allthing to agree to participate in the undertaking, they will need the backing of three of the king clan heads and their faction. They already have High King Nurargrumli Goldshield’s support; now they need to convince Thozoutryd Silvershoulder, Dalornath Mithrilback, and/or Arandram Undermantle.

He then mentions one last thing.

“There is one other thing you should know.”

He gestures toward the four King Clans.

“They all hate one another.”

He pauses.

“They also hate one another’s children.”

Another pause.

“And grandchildren.”

He looks toward the assembly hall.

“Some of them have been dead for centuries.”

Complications

Once the players leave the relative safety of the palace’s assembly hall, they soon learn that another party in the city opposes them.

You step into the echoing silence of the parliament chamber’s vacant lobby. Behind you, the big metal doors silently swing inward and close with a muffled fwump. You barely take a step before you hear, “That them, get them,” ring through the space, followed by the draw of daggers and the sound of boots on concrete.

Challenge: 2 Goblin Catspaws (LItM Core Rulebook page 171) working for Ailénach jump out from behind the columns and try to assassinate the players. They have no interest in fighting fair or dying for their liege.

Once they are defeated, read the following

As the last assassin is dealt with, a noise like timber violently splintering rings through the hall, followed by another echoing CRACK. A pair of goblins in cloaks like the others, clutching crossbows, fall dead from the balcony above. You catch a brief glimpse of braided red hair and nut-brown skin over the balcony rail as the smell of black powder wafts down.

An examination of the bodies of the assassins reveals that they each have a bulky envelope containing a dossier on each of them with lithographed print images. There is nothing else particularly interesting about their personal effects beyond a staggering collection of poisons in little bottles secreted around each assassin’s body. However, if the players examine the bodies themselves, they find a brand on each chest. Those who grew up in New Mountainheart recognize the mark immediately; it is the mark of Ailénach, Queen of Hexes, King Fredrick’s mother-in-law, and a recurring villainess in the stories of the king’s Errantry.

To be continued;