the ground by some great force and carried off. But how? The PCs, with their diverse skills, are asked to help find the sculpture before Safinian’s Hollow is disgraced.
Summary: A small hamlet overseen by a coven of hags. Size/Type: Hamlet
Population: 188 Alignment: NG/CE
Demographics: Isolated (96% human, 2% halfling, 1% half-
elf, 1% other)
Gold Limit: 100/940 assets.
Power Center: Magical (secret coven - CE) Authority figures: The Sisters
Important Non Player Characters: Martell Fegin, male
human, Exp3 (brewer); Hurral Drenz, male human, Com2/War2 (trademaster); Armorer Baldwick, male human, Exp2 (smithy); Marlane, human female, Com3 (lead fisher).
History/Background : The town of Sparklehill was formed
long ago by a cleric of the god of travels, who lead a small
group of pilgrims on an overland journey to find what would be their perfect home. This cleric, named Wyrus Wisewind, was famous for his travels and stories in his homeland. Over the years he earned many followers, mostly among the simple folk who desperately needed to believe in something better. Eventu- ally, Wyrus’ mind began getting old and he started tales of a new place called Sparklehill, a fortified land of rolling grasslands, defensible mountains, a wide bright lake teeming with fish and a vibrant forest nearby. With encouragement from some of his best supporters, he finally called those who would follow him to pack up their things, leave their families, friends and jobs behind if need be, to find this paradise.
The journey was long and hard. Not everyone lived to see it through, and frequently as the months and soon years passed, many began losing hope, until at last they found their destiny. It was nearly as Wyrus had told, unclaimed by any lord yet close enough to civilization to trade on a monthly basis. The hill, the mountains, the lake, the forest, all was as Wyrus had
seen. After a week long fit of planning, direction and leadership, Wyrus wandered into the woods and was never seen again.
The pilgrims were ecstatic at having found their new home, however, and their enthusiasm showed with how quickly the town formed. The lake did prove excellent for fishing and homes were built within months. It was then that the sisters came… The three mid-aged women approached the vil- lagers with gifts of herbs, berries, and healing leaves from the forest, which was their home. While they admitted their home was fairly deep in the forest, they say they made the journey to let the village leaders know that Wyrus had died in their care. They presented his holy symbol and the town mourned. However the trio also brought the news that Wyrus wished them to look over “his people” and help them thrive. With nothing to lose or fear, the pilgrims accepted the wisdom and direction of the women. And so for the last 20 years they have lived in ignorance.
General Layout/First Impressions: From a pictur-
esque standpoint alone the area where Sparklehill thrives could have been in dozens of paintings and dreams. To the south and east a large, dark, vibrant forest stretches for miles. To the southwest are grassy foothills which grow to a mighty mountain range as you look due north-northwest which border ripe fertile land. To the northeast, a beautiful mile-wide lake of the brightest waters reflect the sun across the land giving the hamlet its name. The villagers came from the south originally, and their nearest neighbor is a border village of a nearby kingdom three days’ journey west through the foothills. Atop the hill in the center of town a sundial has been erected dedicated to Wyrus, the founder. The small family huts follow a uniform design octagonal in shape with thatched rooftops and wooden construc-
tion. For large or extended families they simply add on another section. The majority of the huts are gathered around the hill where the shepards and craftsmen live, while many more are situated north parallel to the mountains where the farmlands are. There are no inns to be seen but there is one building decidedly different from the others with a fenced-in, partially roofed yard with rows of tables and benches offering what appears to be food and drink.
The first light of day illuminates the lake like a golden kaleidoscope, offering a breathtaking start to the day. The sun shines high and strong for most of the day until it begins to fade behind the mountains west in the late afternoon, bathing the town in extended twilight. Close examination of the tools and workmanship outside huts and in yards may betray the occupa- tion of those inside, for there are no obvious signs denoting proper businesses.
Economy/Trade: Sparklehill lies on an important trade route
with the bordertown to the west. Each month a group of able- bodies join trademaster Hurral on the journey to trade Fegin’s Ale and prepared forest herbs and preserved fish for workable metal and occasionally additional livestock. There are three dif- ferent inns in that town that depend on Fegin’s Ale to draw in regular customers and each claims its own variation on the brew. The shrine to the god of travels makes excellent use of the medicinal herbs and roots that the Sparklehill folks provide as well as a local healer as well as a shady character who insists on buying packets of the chewing tobacco blackroot from the Sisters despite there being plenty of crops locally (something about the “purity” of the lake area crop that he enjoys, and can apparently afford). Fishermen enjoy a good return selling fish and occasionally the rare eels found in the deeper waters to restaurants.
Customs/Laws: At the end of every two weeks the Sisters
come to check up on the villagers and hold a small meeting to discuss news and happenstance. As the villagers have come to lean on the Sisters for healing herbs, dusts to help their crops grow stronger and pastes to help their fishing boats last longer (and in one instance drive off bandits), this is a time of celebra- tion and thanks. The sisters will meet individually with children to help guide their futures and offer them council. Locals gather to play music at Fegin’s Tavern to dance and share meals. There has never been a need to set up a list of laws, nor is there truly a sheriff or militia. There is a hut down by the lake where occasionally folk have to be locked when they show signs of “Lake Madness,” a form of dementia that temporarily wipes folks memories and personalities that leads to erratic and sometimes harmful behavior to themselves or others. The locals will say this only happens once or twice a year and the cause is unknown. Sunrise is commonly called “firstlight” and evening referred to as “hilldusk.” At firstlight the shepherds tend to their flocks on the nearby hills, farmers start their day and fisherfolk head out on the lake. Everyone’s in by hilldusk and small groups of friends occasionally work in a quick stop at Fegin’s for a drink and local gossip.
Religion/Worship: Many of the trappings about local houses
still show a verdant respect for the god of travels and his ways despite them having settled down, as it was he who helped lead
them here they believe. Most workers spend a moment in thanks each morning at firstlight giving a nod of respect and a moment of silence at the sundial on the hill in thanks to Wyrus. Thanks to the sorcerous ways of the Sisters, the villagers all have a healthy respect for (and more than passing knowledge of) the god of magic.