There are countless stories that could draw a party of adventurers to the Western Frontier. To name just a few:
The Fugitive. The adventurers have to find a war criminal—an Aundairian battle mage who’s taken refuge in Graywall. Perhaps they need her expertise to deal with a greater threat; perhaps they need to bring her to justice before the Royal Eyes can smuggle her back to Fairhaven.
Turakbar’s Fist. This vile citadel holds the power of a fiendish overlord. Adventurers must stop Rhesh Turakbar from performing a foul ritual—or failing that, kill him before he can become an avatar of the Horned King.
The Long Road. The Border Road supports a steady stream of commerce. A party of adventurers is hired to guard an Orien Thunder Coach transporting something secret and vital from Ardev to Sylbaran. Along the way they’ll deal with trouble from both sides of the road, and from Ashbound druids as well. What is their hidden cargo?
Tomb Raiders. A sage discovers the location of a legendary Dhakaani treasure vault hidden beneath the Barrens. Depending on their nature, the adventurers could be driven by greed or because it belongs in a museum! The adventurers must race across the frontier, finding clues to the location of the vault while staying one step ahead of the Order of the Emerald Claw. But what happens when they enter the tomb and find that a squad of Khech Volaar dar are already there? Will the adventurers help the Dhakaani reclaim their ancestral relics, or will they claim the treasures themselves?
All of these are fine stories that give adventurers a reason to visit the region—to find the criminal, to claim the treasure, to kill the possessed warlord. The adventure at the end of this book, “Heart of Stone,” gives adventurers an introduction to Quickstone and a grounding in the region, and if they wish, they can move elsewhere when it’s done. But there is another option: using the Western Frontier as the foundation for an entire campaign. If that’s a path you want to follow, there are a few steps to follow. Think about the themes you want to explore in the campaign. Consider the roles that characters can play. And choose a location that will best serve that story.
The Western Frontier draws on a host of different sources for inspiration, from Deadwood to Game of Thrones. Do you want to defend your home from brigands and robber barons? Do you want to get involved with the intrigues of Droaam’s warlords, or do you just want to get rich? Consider the following ideas, and which of them you’d like to play a role in your campaign.
Home and Hearth. You have a home, and it matters to you. Perhaps it’s your family farm. Maybe you lost everything in the Mourning, and you’re trying to build a new haven for your people on the edge of the Five Nations. Perhaps you cashed in everything you had to leave Sharn and open a tavern in Quickstone. Whatever the story, you have a stake in your community, and you want to see it thrive. You’re not thinking about saving the world, not at the start of the story—you’re thinking about the reavers that sacked Jadon’s Holt, about fixing the old roof, and about who you’re going to take to the Sand Fruit Festival next month. In this campaign, the town you live in is another character in your story—as the campaign unfolds, you’ll have to decide how to expand it and how to protect it.
Revenge. Someone did you wrong. Perhaps the warlord Rhesh Turakbar decimated your unit during the Last War. Maybe you worked with the bandit queen Breggan Blackcrown until she betrayed you. Maybe you believed in the Swords of Liberty until you learned what Beggar Dane is really up to. So what are you going to do about it? It may well be that you lack the power to challenge your enemy as the story opens. You’re going to need to hone your skills, to acquire allies, and to learn your enemy’s weaknesses. But you will have justice, or you will die in the attempt.
Greed. A Dragonmarked House has set its sights on your town, and they’ll do anything to get what they want. An investor has restored the Byeshk mine in your town, and it’s bringing in an assortment of unsavory characters. Or perhaps your party has acquired something of great value—you’ve got the claim to the Byeshk mine, or a deposit of dragonshards—but someone or something is standing in your way. There will be blood!
Treasure. You’ve learned about an amazing hoard somewhere in the Barrens. It could be a Dhakaani ruin, or it could be the lair of a rogue dragon, the treasure chamber of the archfey King Grayfinger, a vault in the Venomous Demesne, or a chest buried by a previous group of Brelish settlers. To find it you’ll have to piece together clues. You’ll have to deal with rivals. You’ll have to lead an expedition across the Barrens. And if you succeed, you’ll have a new set of challenges to face. It’s enough wealth to change lives in the Barrens—what will you do with it? And the artifacts in the hoard are exceptionally powerful—but that power will attract attention.
Ancient Mystery. Dhakanni ruins. Demonglass shrines. The daelkyr Orlassk. The lurking undead of the Kech Nasaar. There are a thousand secrets hidden across the Western Frontier, and you need to unravel one of them. The question is whether this is purely of academic interest, or whether the subject you’re investigating is a threat that is stirring. Initially, you might simply be searching for the source of a series of demonglass idols, but by the end of the campaign, you could be going toe to toe with the overlord Tol Kharash.
Folk Horror. You live in a peaceful mining village, but something strange is going on. People say the stone is whispering to them. And you’ve seen figures moving in the night, their faces hidden by quickstone masks… Folk Horror is more subtle than an Ancient Mystery. This is a danger that doesn’t threaten the world, but what will it do to your friends and family? Perhaps a cult of Orlassk is spreading through your town—can you save the people who’ve been seduced by the whispering stone, or is it too late for them? Or maybe foolish people are making bargains with the Merchant of Misthaven. Can you undo the havoc wrought by her dangerous gifts?
Monsters and Men. Your story will be driven by interactions between the denizens of Droaam and the people of the east. Can you learn from one another? Can you find common ground, or will fear and prejudice lead to conflict?
The Dream of Droaam. Whether you’re from Droaam or the Five Nations, you believe in Droaam. You want to see it stable and secure, standing alongside the other Five Nations. But your adventures will lead you into a host of intrigues that will lead you across the Western Frontier. Which warlord is trying to destroy the Daughters of Sora Kell and seize their power? Which one is an agent of Tol Kharash? Which of the eastern nations has sent assassins and provocateurs to stir up conflict? And how can you—a lowly band of adventurers—gain the influence you need to play a meaningful role in this saga?
War. Breland and Droaam are on the brink of war, and if it happens, you will have a role to play. Are you working to prevent the conflict, or are you carrying out missions to ensure that your nation is in the strongest position when it happens? If and when war breaks out, will you be fighting on the front lines, or will you be trying to protect your hometown?
While some of these suggestions are written from the perspective of Brelish characters, they are equally compelling for a party for Droaamites or a mixed alliance. Home and Hearth could be a newly established Droaamite village on the edge of the Border Road. You might seek Revenge on an abusive former chib!
There’s a place for anyone on the Western Frontier. But here are a few ideas that work especially well in a Western Frontier campaign. Many of these work best if you are attached to a particular location—as in the Home and Hearth theme mentioned above. You could just be a Preacher… but the story can be more compelling if you are the Preacher for a small community, seeking to provide spiritual guidance to your people even as you are fighting supernatural threats or engaging in Droaamite intrigue. While these ideas are largely tied to the easterners, they can easily be adapted for Droaamites—a medusa preacher of the Cazhaak Six, a changeling magistrate serving Katra’s Voice, a kobold sheriff who wears no star but who strives to protect their community.
These are just a few possibilities. Any options that aren’t used as player characters can work well as NPCs. Your town will have a sheriff; if you don’t take the job, you’ll have to deal with the NPC that does.
The Sheriff. You’re wearing a tin Star of Arrah, and you’ve sworn to keep the peace. Are you noble by nature? Are you seeking redemption for a troubled past? Or are you using this position for personal gain?
The Preacher. You’re the spiritual guide for your community. Because of this, whatever faith you choose to follow will be the primary faith of your town or village. Are you a Vassal? A follower of the Flame? A Greensinger? If your religion is unusual or secretive—a Three Faces cult, the Seekers—you could have fought to establish this community on the frontier.
The House Agent. You’re a dragonmarked heir serving the interests of your house on the Western Frontier. Do you believe that your house will improve the lives of the people of your community, or are you purely interested in profit?
The Magistrate. A counterpart to the Sheriff, more likely driven by intelligence than strength. You also seek to maintain order in your town, but you’re responsible for maintaining records and administering justice. If there’s a mystery in town, you need to solve it.
The Innkeeper. You’ve got a stake in this town, and you want to see it prosper. A lot of people pass through your inn, and might have ties to any number of risky opportunities. Are you tied to House Ghallanda, or are you independent?
The Blacksmith. You’re a stoic and reliable figure admired by the people of your town. Blacksmith is a good role for a Fighter or Artificer, but you could choose a different profession; you might be the town healer, or a simple tailor. You might have once been a soldier or a spy, but for now you’re trying to make a simple, honest living.
The Entertainer. Whether you’re a Phiarlan bard or a harpy songbird from Droaam, you bring a little joy to your town, and you’re always interested in a new story. Are you as innocent as you appear to be, or do you have a hidden agenda?
The Mystic. You have ties to the divine or to druidic mysteries, but you aren’t the town preacher, and you may be the only person of your faith in town. Are you following a vision? Are you seeking redemption after a crisis or faith?
The Wandslinger. You’re a charismatic gambler and rake, and you’re the fastest wand in the west—if you do say so yourself. You’re looking to build your reputation as a duelist. Are you a noble heir running from your responsibilities? A former smuggler? Do you have debts to pay or a price on your head?
The Sage. You’re fascinated by the history of this region, and might have a particular interest in the Dhakaani Empire, the daelkyr, or the Age of Demons. Is this purely academic, or are you searching for secrets of magic or artifice? You could be serving as a schoolteacher or putting your talents to work in another useful way.
The Chronicler. You’re an investigative reporter for the Sharn Inquisitive or the Korranberg Chronicle, and you know there’s a story out here. Are you chasing a particular subject, or just waiting for a compelling story to appear?
The Folk Hero. You’re no sheriff, but you strive to help people in need… and since that bard wrote that song about you, you’ve become something of a celebrity. Is there a particular group you’re championing—Brelish settlers, kobolds, Cyran refugees? Are you a templar of the Silver Flame, seeking supernatural evil? Or is your fame based on an inaccurate story—are you not the hero people believe you to be?
The Old Soldier. You might have served in one of the armies of the Last War. You could have been a Sentinel Marshal of House Deneith. Regardless of the details, you served and fought for decades—and now you’re sick of war and searching for a little peace. You performed legendary feats in the past, but you don’t talk about the Last War. Perhaps you’ve adopted a child or started a farm. You don’t want to draw your sword again… but you just might have to.
The Hunter. You’re a bounty hunter. You could be tied to House Tharashk, tracking criminals and other fugitives for gold. Or you could hunt monstrosities for the bounty on their teeth. Are you in it for the money? Do you need the thrill? Or is it something else that drives you?
The Fugitive. You can never return to the Five Nations. There’s no price on your head—for the moment—but if you ever go back, your enemies will destroy you. Perhaps you’re a dragonmarked excoriate, driven from your house for conducting forbidden experiments. Maybe you’re a heretic, or perhaps you’re the oldest heir of a noble family that wants your younger sibling to inherit the title. Do you hope to one day return to your home, or do you like the freedom of your exile?
The Orphan. You lost everything and everyone you cared about. You might be a Cyran refugee fleeing the Mourning, a kobold whose village was sacked by the Company of the Black Crown, or a settler whose family was killed by Rhesh Turakbar’s reavers. Perhaps you’re a Hexblood or a Kalashtar, and you don’t even remember what happened to your parents; you’ve been struggling to survive alone, and now you may have found a new family.
The Mysterious Stranger. You’re a grim figure. You could be a Tairnadal elf, masked and veiled. An Eldeen druid on a secret mission. A tiefling wandslinger from the Venomous Demesne. You don’t talk about your past and never say two words when one will do. You’re waiting for someone or something. But while you wait, you’re happy to use your wand for a good cause.
Choosing a role is a starting point, and usually helps suggest a character’s class and background. In addition to choosing a role, players may want to answer the following questions:
How were you affected by the Last War? Did your character fight in the Last War, and if so, for which nation? If the character is a Droaamite, did they fight against Brelish forces? Regardless of whether the character fought in the war, did they lose friends, family, or property because of it?
What do you believe? This could be the character’s religion. However, even if they don’t have faith in the divine, they might care about a nation (helping Cyran refugees), a political cause (abolishing the Brelish monarchy), or the advancement of Droaam.
What do you want? What is their greatest desire—Wealth? Fame? A lost heirloom? A family? Revenge?
What are you afraid of losing? Their reputation? Their family? Their faith? Their familiar?
Once again, these are just a few options! After considering these questions, what are other details that come to mind?
The Home and Hearth theme gives the adventurers roots in a community—something that works well with character concepts like the Sheriff, the Preacher, and the Innkeeper. A simple option is to use the town of Quickstone, which is described in chapter 3; simply replace the existing NPCs with characters who take on their roles. On the other hand, the party could create an entirely new village or town that lies along the Border Road. The party could even have a mobile base of operations, serving as the crew of an Orien Thunder Coach (see chapter 5) that’s traveling back and forth between Ardev and Sylbaran—essentially, a ship on wheels.
As the DM, work with the players to add personal details to the location you choose. If it’s a new village, what’s its name? What’s unique about the location? Is there a useful manifest zone? A shrine? A cemetery? When using Quickstone, players can add details to existing locations. Which tavern do they drink at, and why? Do they sympathize with the Grizzlies or the Mourners? How do they feel about the rise of Main Street and the upcoming Kundarak enclave? For each character, who’s their best friend in the town, and who’s their worst rival? The goal is to give each character a connection to the community—and to give the players a reason to care about it.
If the players aren’t interested in having a home base, the DM can still choose a location or two that are particularly relevant for them. What’s the tavern they always stop at when they’re traveling on the Border Road? Who’s their most useful contact in Graywall? Who’s the bard they keep meeting on the road? Again, this serves to give the players a connection to the region and provides the DM with some hooks they can use over the course of the campaign.
As a player character becomes wealthy and powerful, they may find some of the stories on the frontier to be less compelling. A 15th level Wizard with a purse full of diamonds won’t have much trouble with a band of basic brigands. There are a few ways to handle this. The first is to shift rewards. “Heart of Stone,” the adventure included in this book, can carry characters to 5th level. This makes them quite capable by the standards of the Western Frontier. Moving forward, the DM could reduce XP rewards, cutting them by 50-75%; the characters will continue to advance, but slowly. Likewise, they may receive less gold than is typically assigned to the challenges they overcome. The point isn’t to penalize the adventurers—it’s to give them different rewards. Rather than raw currency, rewards can be favors, improved reputation, useful magic items—whether that’s an experimental potion, a Dhakaani adamantine blade, or a golden fiddle from the Merchant of Misthaven—or, potentially, Epic Boons or Supernatural Gifts. Adventurers who shatter Orlassk’s cursed altar might receive a Supernatural Gift without explanation; is it a gift from the archfey King Grayfinger, a show of gratitude for cleansing the stone? Or is it the first manifestation of Orlassk’s “blessing”—which might soon become a curse?
Once again, the goal isn’t to deny the characters a sense of accomplishment or advancement. The point is that, as the economy of the Western Frontier operates at a lower level than Sharn or Fairhaven, the adventurers don’t need a lot of gold for it to be significant. Likewise, they should feel that they are gaining useful things because of their victories—but those can be favors or blessings rather than the ability to cast 7th level spells.
This is an option, but it’s not the only one. If a DM wants to run a higher level campaign on the Western Frontier, the challenges faced by the adventurers can evolve to match their power. Fiends could manifest through Rhesh Turakbar’s Demonglass Warriors. Mordain the Fleshweaver could unleash deadly threats tailored specifically to challenge the adventurers. Orlassk could unleash a Stoneborn Tarrasque. These sorts of threats will certainly shift the tone of the campaign, but there are ways to challenge high-level characters.
What sort of story do you want to tell? The Western Frontier can be a harsh and unforgiving place. Is this a tale where a hero can die in the blink of an eye, or is it a story where the protagonists will be in it to the end, but they will carry scars to remind them of their failures? At the start of the campaign, the DM and players should decide which approach they want to take. The default is to use the rules exactly as they stand, including the potential for instant death from massive damage and the use of Death Saving Throws. However, if everyone involved in the campaign agrees, you could use one of the following options:
No Country for Old Minotaurs. Death is always on the table. A character reduced to 0 Hit Points always fails Death Saving Throws, meaning that allies have only three rounds to save a fallen friend before they die. In addition, a character instantly dies if they suffer 10 points of damage from a single attack while at 0 Hit Points (rather than damage equal to their Hit Point maximum). The Western Frontier is a dangerous place, and players should always have a second character in mind…
Safety in Numbers. Characters automatically stabilize if they have an ally within 60 feet, with no action required. The only way for a character to die is through massive damage or if all characters in a scene are reduced to 0 Hit Points; you live together or die together. However, failure has consequences! A character reduced to 0 Hit Points suffers a Scar, as described below. In this model, death is rare, but characters still suffer some form of loss due to their failure.
Nothing but Scars. A character automatically stabilizes upon reaching 0 Hit Points. The only way for a character to die is if they agree that their character should die—they’re making a heroic sacrifice, or it otherwise feels appropriate to the story. However, any character reduced to 0 Hit Points suffers a Scar.
A secondary option if players don’t want their characters to be at risk of death but dramatically want it to feel like it’s on the table is the Miraculous Return. Characters can die as per the standard rules, but a short time after death, they will return: the question is how. A few possibilities…
The Queen of the Dead. The character dies, and the spirit goes to Dolurrh… and the Queen of the Dead plucks them from the mists and sends them back. This could be a bargain: Perhaps they’re returned to life, but they have one month in which to kill someone who’s evaded the queen’s grasp. Or perhaps the character remembers the Queen whispering, but can’t remember what they said—and that memory will return at a vital moment.
Zerasha. This medusa priest of the Shadow dwells in Graywall and is one of the few people with the power to return life to the dead. She asks nothing for this service—which should make the adventurers nervous. Why does the Shadow want the character to live?
Sora Teraza. The blind hag also has the power to raise the dead, though she rarely uses this gift. If she does so, it means that there is something the character still has to do. But is this destiny heroic or tragic?
Mordain. The character wakes up on the edge of Mordain’s domain. They haven’t been resurrected; they’ve been recreated by the Fleshweaver. Why has he cloned the adventurer? Could this mean he has other clones of them he could release into the world?
The point of a miraculous return is that the character does die, but they are restored to life in a way that creates interesting hooks for the future of the campaign.
Scars. There can be suspense and risk even if death is taken off the table. Everyone has something to lose, and when a character is taken to 0 Hit Points, they will lose something. The severity and nature of the loss can vary based on the circumstances of the defeat. If a player is defeated in a barroom brawl, they aren’t going to lose a leg—but they could take a blow to their reputation. The simplest option is a literal scar: a permanent reminder of injury and defeat. It’s up to the player to decide how the character is marked, but the scar should be somewhere obvious; it’s an ongoing reminder of their defeat. A more severe injury could result in the loss of all or part of a limb; remember that Eberron: Rising from the Last War has Prosthetic Limbs! But scars don’t have to be physical. A character could have a traumatic reaction to the source of their defeat; going forward, they suffer Disadvantage on ability checks or attack rolls directly related to the person or creature that scarred them. The damage could be to their reputation, as word of the defeat spreads and wherever they go, people bring up the story. Finally, the defeat could trigger an unrelated loss; a business deal falls through, tragedy strikes an ally or relative, the adventurer’s farm catches fire while they are away. It’s not that the character nearly dying caused the fire on their farm—but tragedy comes in twos, and the adventurer’s defeat is echoed elsewhere in their life.
There’s nothing wrong with just using the standard rules for death and dying. But talking about it is a way for both the players and the DM to establish their expectations for a campaign, setting the tone for the story to come.