Ironsworn – Solo play

My Ironsworn play through is being set up at the moment. So far I have a draft of my world outline, built off the options available in the PDF. Bonds have been created, a background vow sworn. The inciting incident will be something based off the suggested quest for the Ragged Coast.

The world

This land is unlike that of our forebears. The weather is harsh, the winters long and the land unproductive. There is a power here though. Unlike that of the old land with its absent gods and stone churches. Here, the land has a power. The first born are sustained by the land itself. The power has flowed into us, human folk, as well. Where as before prayers to the old gods were met with nothing but a flicker of a candle, here, rituals to the earth, sea and sun produce tangible boons. No god figure presents itself but a power manifests all the same.

This power sustains the first born, but not us. Not in life that is. Death here is not the end for those unlucky enough to die away from their circle. Those who are not furnished the the burial rights will return, as a horror. They lurk in the dark places, the deep wet lakes and musty, dank forests. From what little contact we have with the First Born, we gather that the undead do not bother them over much. If you find yourself alone on the road at night, build a fire or find a safe place to rest for the evening. You do not want to be caught out alone in the dark wilds. Beasts are plentiful and if they do not rip your limbs off and disembowel you, well, the undead never cease their slow, laboured chase. You will tire before they do.

Fortunately, the lack of arable land means that a warrior class, swollen like a near bursting tumour in the old-world, has never arisen. Our circles band together for defense, we take pride in watching over one another. The lack of resources means that no one person rules over all, but oh do they squabble over what they can. Small raiding parties are the worst of it. The most treacherous circles who raid cannot afford to empty their homes completely, lest other raiders seek recompense. No raider wants to return to dead families. Whether those deaths be at the hands of other humans, beasts or, the worst fate possible, taken by horrors to be turned.

Bonds

Grim-Fjord – Grim-Fjord is my home. From the time before I can remember we have fished for survival. The steep ascent into the mountains behind make farming of minimal use for us. With a reliance on the sea comes two kinds of troubles however. Those that mother nature throws at us, and those that come atop wooden vessels. The peoples all along the ragged coast have fought each other for generations. If there was a time when the communities co-operated no stories exist.

Mura Sarria – hunter – My childhood friend, adolescent companion and adulthood soul mate. My wife and the mother of my children, she means the world to me. She can be insensitive at times, especially when it comes to matters of politics. She is queen of the house and speaks plainly always. Careless of the obligations thrust upon us all by our circumstances here in the Ironlands, and more imminently, our home on the Ragged Coast. This lack of care sees here weary under the strain. Fishing expeditions, backlash against the rulings of the circle coucil and repeatedly failed crops. We support each other always, I just hope this hard life hasn’t taken a toll on her like it has so many before. It is for her and our children that I wish to unite the clans of the Ragged Coast together and drive out the raiders of the Barrier Islands.

Ishana Kotama – Adventurer – reclusive, Insensitive, sick. Ishana was a ward of the previous Jarl. She spent her first 16 summers here in Grim-Fjord before our alliance with Wolf-watch was shattered. The Jarl, her father, demanded she be returned to them or it would be nothing but all out war which would ensue. And so it was, I saw the last of her on that day, many years previous. News of her exploits reached our community. She had become an adventurer, looking for supplies, food and iron to secure for her people. This led her over the barrier mountains into the Deep Wilds. Who did she meet there? Elves? Giants? The stories suggest that and more. However, the certainty of it all is that she contracted some illness while in those dark woods. Perhaps an ailment of the firstborn, hopefully nothing worse. She has become a recluse most say and lives high in the mountains behind Wolf-watch. I hope she remembers me, remembers the bright times we shared as young ones. For I know she will be vital in remaking what once was between Grim-fjord and Wolf-watch.